The Dan Vs Everything Chronicles
by nyanyanya22
Summary: In a take on Dan Vs, both like the show, yet in many ways darker, Dan and Chris go on various adventures of revenge against whatever Dan's annoyed by, getting wrapped in in the cities dark underbelly, as Elise struggles with the weight of her life as a series of events throw her life upside down.
1. The Factory

**Ok, so. The original(technically second) version of this one was written in a day and a half. Ok, sure, but rushed. Not to mention, the main villain has undergone a serious shift in future plans since I wrote this. Don't expect any future stories to get big rewrites, since now I spend mroe time on em. This was my first one, it needed the fix. Anyway**

**DAN VS: The Factory**

Dan is in his room, wearing a chef hat, attempting to make breakfast. A large oozey mass appears to be on his stove.  
Dan examined his cook book closely. "Hmm, 'Use two cups ricotta cheese, one cup...Ugh, ricotta cheese!? Who does it think I am, a Rockefeller?" Dan yelled to himself about his lack of quality ingredients. "Eh, I'm sure cream cheese will work. Ok, next, 'One cup anchovy extra-WHAT EVEN IS THAT, ach-, COUGH, COUGH, CO-CO COUGH!" Dan's rambling was cut off by a sudden violent coughing fit.

"What the- cough cough - what is this?" Dan said, fumbling to open the door. Stumbling outside, he quickly saw the source of the problem.  
A large truck, spraying pesticide on one of the few real trees in the area, creating a large cloud.  
"EXCUSE ME SIR, BUT YOU'RE RUINING MY BREAKFAST!" Dan screamed, quickly stumbling down the stairs.

The worker turned to the noise, noticing Dan. "Oh, hello sir. Bet you're glad we can finally spray this area huh?"  
Dan leaned towards him. "NO, I am NOT glad. 6 years of living here in peace, and NOW you decide to pollute the air?"

The worker smiled. "Yeah, budget didn't allow us to spray in, uh, low value areas, since we had to ship em in from Bernadino, but with, the uhh, new factory, we can spray here now." He said, as he returned to spraying.

"Three things. First, there's like, THREE trees here. Two, what do you mean LOW VALUE? ARE YOU INSULTING ME CASA!?"  
"No sir I am not." The worker mumbled before spraying.  
"And third...what new factory?"

The worker paused for a moment. "The Azinder Chemical Combine, opened on the other side of town last month."

"No, I have not." Raising his hands up, Dan stammered, "Wha-Who the hell is AZINDER anyway?"

The worker sighed. "Russian Playboy, bought out a section of DuPont a few years back, fastest growing pesti-Don't you watch the news, dude?"  
he asked in frustration at Dans lack of knowledge.

"I don't follow that mainstream propaganda. I only listen to the finest conspiracy stations." Dan spoke, pride in his voice.

The worker looked down, now slightly concerned at who he had been talking to, avoiding direct eye contact with Dan. "Riiiiiight." before turning back to his sprayer. "Stuffs way cheaper then what we got before. Real cheap."

Dan stammered. "I don't CARE how cheap they are, tell them to stop spraying near my house, or else!"

The worker shrugged. "Sorry, not much I can do sir." before getting in his truck to leave. As he did so, he accidentally rammed into Dan's Car, knocking off the bumper.

"NO, MY CAR!" Dan shouted at the sky as the sprayer drove off. Walking to his car, he observed the broken bumper, and seethed with rage.

"Grrrr...FACTORY!"  
**DAN VS:** THE FACTORY!

* * *

Dialing his phone, Dan paced with a great deal of impatience, until the sound clicked.

A Hispanic woman's voice appeared on the other end. "Hello. You've reached Azinder Chemical Combine customer support, how may I assist you?"

"LISTEN – I KNOW who I've reached, no need to waste time to spell it out, we all got things to do! And what you will ASSIST me is fixing my car, WHICH YOU DESTROYED!" Dan said bluntly, raising and frantically waving his left hand up in the air. "So, you either send me the money for repairs, or I will enact revenge on your company!"

A soft chuckling could be heard on the other side of the phone. "Psst, listen to this guy. He's probably on something." she said, partially obscured. Dan heard it anyway though, but chose to carry on with his claim.

"I'm giving you guys a fair warning. If you don't take my complaint seriously-"  
"Sir, how exactly did Azinder ruin your car?" the lady asked, trying to contain her amusement.  
"SOME GUY bumped into it, but that's beside the point!"

Dan witnessed laughter snorting in the background of the call.

"HEY! If you don't stop that yapping and focus on my problem right now, I'M GONNA COME TO YOUR CALL CENTER, AND HAVE YOU ALL GUTTED OPEN IN FRONT OF YOUR CHILDREN!" Dan screamed, squeezing the phone with all his might. The laughing increased. "Oh, oh you're rich buddy, HAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!"  
**  
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP. **

The phone went dead. Dan frowned, staring at the black, unrelenting block in his hand. "You cackling JERKS! I'll make you regret your mockings – tenfold!"

* * *

Chris and Elise are sitting on their couch, chatting. Sipping his coffee, Chris resumes his conversation with Elise.

"I just feel like meatloaf has a certain, appeal to it that burgers just can't match."

Elise persisted. "You gotta lay off the fatty food, it's not good for you."

"I know, but I"

"CHRRRRIIIIIIIIIS! I HAVE BEEN WRONGED!" Dan screamed, pressing his face into the window glass.

Chris groaned, looking out the window.

"Oh boy, what is it this time." Chris sighed, getting off the couch. Quickly turning back to Elise though, he briefly spoke "I meant what I said, meatloaf is unmatched, I-"

"CHRIS! COME ON!" Dan screamed, how dare Chris not aid in his scheme?

"-I gotta go Elise. Sorry."

As Chris walked away, Elise's watch suddenly beeped.  
"Whew, didn't think he would leave." The voice said, obviously referring to Chris. "Dancing Shadow, I'm sure you're aware of the recent rise  
of 'Azinder Chemical Combine'?"

Elise nodded, she followed corporate news closely. "Yeah, rising company, broke away from DuPont, I know what you mean."

"A truck accident occurred last night on the interstate, several civilians were exposed to toxic gases." Eagles Nest spoke, piquing Elise's interest. "And this concerns me, how?" Granted, Elise was saddened that people had died, but an industrial accident wasn't something her agency normally took concern in.

The watch resumed speaking, "Our team's discovered crates of artillery shells, filled with phosgene. You know what that means."  
Elise nodded. "Chemical Weapons."

"The truck driver was a man named Antonio Daza, records indicate he works for the company. We suspect a connection." Eagles Nest spoke, as Elise turned to the window, watching Chris and Dan drive off. She was somewhat glad her husband was always busy with Dan, made her job a much easier secret to keep.

"We need you to investigate this potential threat. Infiltrate the Azinder Chemical Combine, search for any evidence of illegal operations, and report back to us. We have a team on standby in case something goes wrong."

"Rodger that, Dancing Shadow out."

* * *

"What is it this time Dan?" Chris said, slightly dispossessed. "I still have burn marks from your last scheme." He rubbed the back of his neck, emphasizing the mark.

Dan chuckled. "Don't worry, no fireworks involved this time." before suddenly turning stern. "We are going to DESTROY Azinder Chemical Combine."  
He shouted, "They're polluting the air and ruining my breakfast. Also they damaged my car."

Chris sighed, a feeling rose within him this was not going to end well. "How exactly did a pesticide company damage your car?"

"They crashed on of their pitiful poison wagons into it." he scowled, frowning. "So we need to exact our vengeance on them."

Smirking, he rubbed his hands together. "Alright, here's the plan. I'm going to need some welding equipment, steel, concrete, a professional surveillance system, and a bulldozer. We put the armor on the bulldozer, put me inside, and I KNOCK THE FACTORY TO THE GROUND! Simple."

Sighing, Chris looked back at Dan. "If we do that, we go to jail."

Dan shrugged, "A small price to pay for freedom from the corporations."

So, you wanna throw a thriving business out of town because of some minor infraction." Chris shouted, realizing his mistake too late.

Dan's eye twitched, a spasm flowing through his body from his head down to his toe. As this happened, Chris attempted to remedy the situation before someone died. "Uh, Dan, I uh, what I meant to say was, well I"  
"Minor Infraction. Heh. Minor infraction. MINOR INFRACTION!?" Dan jumped at Chris's side, grabbing and punching at his stomach, attempting to wrestle the man down. "I'LL GIVE YOUR FACE A MINOR INFRACTION YOU FILTHY BLOB!"

Chris held firm, trying his best to hold the car steady. I said I was OUCH, sorry AGH, did you BITE-"

"Chris, THE ROAD!" Dan screamed, having suddenly stopped attacking Chris. Turning forward, Chris saw what Dan had pointed out.

Crunchy, crossing the street, a pair of headphones in his head, blissfully unaware of the car barreling towards him.  
"Gosh, this song is totally cheesing it."

The brakes screeched with friction, as the car ground to a halt, inches from Crunchy's face. He did not notice, and continued forward.

Dan and Chris sat, unmoving, frozen in fear, until Chris managed to speak. "Alright, let's not do that again."

As they pulled up to the gate, Dan rolled down the window. A man, wearing a plant uniform, sat at a small check station.

"Welcome to Azinder Chemical Combine, do you have a permit to enter the production bay?" He asked, quite politely.

Dan scowled, stepping out of car and pointing at the worker. "No, and I won't need one, because there WON'T BE A PRODUCTION BAY,WHEN I FINISH GETTING MY SWEET VENGEANCE ON YOUR CROOKED CORPORATION!"

The man blinked, twitched, and quickly grabbed a walkie talkie. "SECURITY, WE GOT A SABOTUER IN SECTOR 12! CODE JERK!"

Dan jumped at the man, striking his head on the glass(cracking it slightly) "ARRGGGH! CHRIS, DESTROY THIS PEON! QUICKLY!"

Chris groaned. "Dan, I'm not going to assault an innocent guard – not again. What will Elise-"

"FORGET ABOUT THAT BROAD!" Dan screamed, as a security force approached. "HE'S NOT INNOCENT, HE'S IN ON IT, WE HAVE TO STOP THEM, WE-AGH!"

Dan stopped, as the guard tazed him. "I'm not with him." Chris quickly stammered out. The security force, satisfied, walked off.

Stumbling to his feet, Dan screamed. "I'M NOT DONE WITH YOU YET, AZINDER! NOT YET!" before brushing off his pants and turning to Chris.

"Alright, we'll need to find another way in. Perhaps some sort of secret tunnel entrance, or an overhead passage." As he walked back into the car, Chris spoke calmy, like he had heard it all before.. "They're a normal company Dan, they don't have secret entrances, they just make pesticide."

* * *

"No, you need to get them through TODAY. Our Syrian friend ordered phosgene and we're getting it to him come hell or high water, you understand?"  
Azinder Kursk, leader of the Azinder Chemical Combine, spoke on the phone, as he rubbed his hair.  
"Fine, fine, I'll ask her where it is, cool your tits."  
CLANK.  
Hanging up, he quickly began dialing the other number.

BEEP BEEP BOOP BOOP BEEP BEEP BOOP.

Elsewhere in the building, a brown haired woman sat at a desk, speaking on the phone.  
"Yes madame, we know you're concerned about our products safety in the home, but I can assure you, Azinder Chemical products are absolutely safe." she spoke in a cynical tone, adjusting her glasses. "Oh yes, your concerns are our TOP priority. We shall treat them as-"  
RING RING RING.  
Yet another phone rang on her desk. Turning to answer it, she froze. It was the red cellphone, hidden in the first shelf.  
It would only ring if Azinder himself was calling. She quickly answered it.

"Melody, we got a problem."  
Melody frowned. When Azinder had a problem, it usually wasn't going to be good news. "You know I'm on civilian calls right now-"  
"I DON'T GIVE A CRAP!" he screamed into his phone. "One of our shipments didn't arrive at the dockyard. Our Near-East business deal is at stake! Call that fat fuck Tony, and I swear, If that FUCKER is sleeping on the job again I'll CUT HIS FUCKING HEAD OFF!"

Melody sighed, "Give me a minute." and began typing furiously, mumbling under her breath.

Azinder too, sighed. Leaning back in his chair, he grumbled to himself. "How did life come to this?" lying his head down on his desk. "Is it even worth it anymore?" he said, a twinge of emotion in his voice. Turning, he looked at the old, framed photo, sitting there.  
In it, three people stood together, guns in hand. The words "SEMPER FI" scrolled across the top.  
Azinder sighed "I'm sorry Nikolai. It never should have come to-"

"Boss, I can't get Daza on the line."

The sudden noise snapped Azinder out of his sorrow. "Oh, right." he said, brushing aside the photo and scrambling to pick up the phone.  
"Uh, repeat what you said?" he hastily said, adjusting his throat.

"I said Daza's out of contact, nobody's seen him since the evening shift change. I can ask Jane if she had-"

"No no no" Azinder spoke, now sounding quite quiet and apathetic. "Just...check the computers, find out where my shipment is...just, get it done quickly, ok?"

"Got it boss." She spoke, before hanging up.

Azinder groaned loudly, practically falling onto his desk. "I'm done with this shit..."  
Turning his head, he suddenly grew loud. "HEY, TOM, FETCH ME A BOTTLE OF GREEN FAERIE, I'M TAKING MY BREAK!"

* * *

Elise drove up to the facility. Approaching the gate, the man(quickly checking to make sure she wasn't Dan) waved her down.

"Welcome to Azinder Chemical Combine, do you-"

"Skip the speech small fry." Elise shouted, shoving her security card in his face.

Looking at the odd card, the guard scoffed."Yeah, sure, there's no way this-" **TWING**. The scanner turned green, indicating it was valid and  
she was free to go in. "...huh." He mumbled in disbelief. "Well, go in I guess, Ms." Elise yanked the card out of his hands, before smuggly  
replying "Gee, thaaaannks." and then driving in.

"Thank you, universal key card." Elise whispered to herself, before turning a corner.

* * *

**SQUEEEEAK**

Chris's car groaned as it circled back once more. Dan's face was smooshed against the wall, his eyes searching for a flaw in the Factory's security.  
"Watch for weaknesses Chris. They obviously have their finest at the gate so we'll have to find another way in."

Chris looked toward the huge compound. "I dunno Dan..." Chris stated, pausing for a second to think. "Wait, if they just opened, the fence is probably brand new, there wouldn't be any holes."

Dan stammered. "Grrr, I HATE IT when you make sense. They've thought of everything, those, those pathetic pesticide prowlers! But, you know  
what they say, the newer they are, the harder they fall."

"I don't think that's a saying Dan." Chris said monotonely.

"Grr...stupid. Anyway, this looks like a good spot,. ram the car into the fence here, then get out and light something on fire."

Chris froze in shock, before quickly looking over to Dan. "Dan, I didn't agree to smash through the fence, I just got this car fixed."

Dan groaned. "Ugh, that's what you ALWAYS say. And you shouldn't have damaged your car in the first place."

"That was YOU Dan!"

"Details, details, all mere speculation." Dan replied, a dismissive tone in his voice.

Chris looked forward. "Plus that's an electric fence, I don't want to get electrocuted Dan."

Sighing, Dan replied "Oh please, you're well insulated, at worst your heart will stop, and, let's be honest, that was going to happen sooner or later anyway with the amount of bacon you shove in your face, so when you think about it, really you're just going to-"

"I am NOT getting electrocuted Dan." Chris said sternly, before putting his eyes back on the road.

Dan growled loudly, appearing as though he was about to attack Chris, before suddenly calming down.

"Fine. I got a better idea. Take me to your house."

Chris, confused as to the intent, asked "Why, exactly?"

"I need your bed sheets."

* * *

"Damn. If these bastards have chemical weapons, they're certainly hiding them well." Elise mumbled to herself.

She had been walking around for nearly 30 minutes, attempting to find anything in the area near the front of the plant. Every truck yielded nothing, but more pesticide. The afternoon heat was baking her, and her uniform wasn't helping.

"Eagles Nest, no sign of any activity in the forward storage area, proceeding to rear storage area. What's the fastest way there?"

After a few seconds of silence, the watch replied, a small map appearing on the display.

"Hmm, difficult to enter, the gates there are high security, guard posts everywhere. Proceed to the production bay, heat signatures from the main furnace indicate it's somewhere near the back of the plant. With the plant uniform provided., no one will suspect a thing."

Elise nodded, the heat was making the lot unbearable. "Rodger that."

"Copy Dancing Shadow, and remember, avoid unnecessary attention. Obtain the evidence, and get out. We don't want any unneeded attention."

Stepping through the door, Elise quickly blended in, merging into the crowd of workers. Just another face.

* * *

"Why exactly do you need our bed sheets Dan. Elise will kill me if we get them dirty."

Dan, struggling to pull the sheets off the bed, turning towards Chris "It's for a good cause. We need disguises!"  
Chris groaned. "So, we're going to use my sheets. What, are we going to be the ghosts of Christmas past and future."

"Close, but no." Dan said, pulling out Scissors and cutting into the sheets.

Chris's eyes bulged, and he quickly jumped at Dan. "DAN, NO! Elise will kill me!"

"GET YOUR MEATY HANDS OFF MY, IT'S OUR DISGUISE!" Dan shouted as he struggled, tossing Chris to his side. "You can always buy new sheets, now let me work, and prepare to be amazed.  
**  
30 MINUTES LATER**

Dan stands there, a scowl on his mug.  
On him, his cobbled together outfit. The sleeves appear detached, the hat is only half done, obvious stitch marks are everywhere, and the entire thing is covered in staples.

"There, this should fool them."

Chris looked at the disguise, a slight grimace in his face from the loss of the sheets. "I'm not sure if that's going to hold."

Dan smirked, waving his hand at Chris. "Pssh, this stapling is second to-" suddenly, several staples popped off, all the stitches ripped, and the outfit fell into pieces. "-none..." Dan said with a slight hint of discontent, pausing. "Well, that's what I get for trusting my grandma's knitting lessons. Old broad nearly gouged my eyes out, what a jerk. Alright Chris, Plan-B, get your mugging shoes on."

"Oh boy" Chris stammered as he followed Dan out the door.

* * *

Elise continued walking forward. The crowd of workers was immense. But the worst part was the noise.  
Oh the banter. Apparently ACC had never learned the value of a quiet workplace. Elise could swear she'd go deaf if she stayed any longer.

Finally, after the umpteenth corridor and a seeming eternity of worker gossip, there it was. The door to the production bay.  
Two men stood nearby, one short, one tall. Attempting to stay casual, Elise simply walked forward, only for the tall one to sidestep in front of her.

"Sorry, only high ranking employees get through here."

Elise, not wanting to break character, pulled out her card. "Check my card clearance, I can assure you I-"

SLAP

The guard knocked the card right of Elise's hands. Only her restraint(and the knowledge of dozens of witnesses behind her) kept her from breaking the mans neck then and there.

"Card or no card, you ain't one of our high ranking employees. Now piss off you bitch."

Elise growled. Every instinct was telling her to kill him.

But, she resisted, nodding and walking away. Patience was the key. Eventually, a moment of opportunity would present itself.  
She had the time.

* * *

Melody was not looking forward to talking to the boss.

Every step she took up the staircase had weight to it. A thought floated into the back of her head.  
How did I get to this point? I had such a bright future ahead of me when I was younger, then... sigh.  
Putting the thought aside, she stepped into Azinders personal penthouse. A sitcom was playing on the tv, the laughtrack rattling outwards.  
Stepping further into the room, she stopped. There he sat, Azinder.

Approaching Azinder, it was clear he wasn't doing the best. Lying on his side, he held a bottle of absinthe in his hand. A slight frown on his face.  
"Mr. Kursk? I've got some bad news about Daza. He-"  
"You're a bitch, you know that?"

Melody froze at her boss's sudden words. "Excuse me?"

"They're ALL a BUNCH of BASTARDS!" he groaned out, slurring his words. "They SAY they're gonna protect you, and they SAY they care, but, they DON'T, THEY FUCKING DON'T!" Waving the bottle around in a haze, he continued. "And then you TRY to fix everything, tell somebody, and they destroy EVERYTHING that ever mattered, and no one cares." he finished, before taking another swig of absinthe. "No one fucking cares."

Concerned for her own well being, Melody stepped back, stuttering on her words before regaining composure. "Sir, I need to inform you that-"  
"GO AWAY...I just wanna WALLOW." Azinder said, sinking his face into the couch, groaning slightly.

"Daza is dead. There was a truck crash." She stuttered out, before backing away.

Azinder snorted, clearing his nose, before raising his head up to look at Melody. "What?"

"I sent Skyler to go follow the truck beacon...I thought Tony had gotten drunk again. He rolled his truck into a ditch, the shells were-"

"FUCK FUCK FUCK!" Azinder shouted, quickly jumping off the chair. "We're FUCKED! That drunk fuck just fucked us all!"

Melody scrambled back, shocked at his response. Thinking quickly, she attempted to calm him down. "The news hasn't reported anything yet, we could send out the-"

"MELODY YOU MORON, THEY'VE FUCKING FOUND US!" Azinder screamed, a slur evident in his words. "Th-the...The news hasn't been told yet, they, they've probably hid it from them, the news won't hear until we're all 6 feet under."  
Azinder leaned down towards Melody, who was at this point on the floor, slowly backing away. "WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU PULL THAT IDIOT AWAY FROM HIS GODDAMN WHISKEY FOR ONE GODDAMN SECOND! HE'S A GODDAMN TRUCK DRIVER YOU FUCKING MORON!"

Melody stuttered "I...I didn't...I thought that-"

"Yeah yeah you THOUGHT, well know we're ALL gonna fucking pay." Azinder spoke with fear in his voice, his arm trembling, a touch of alcohol on his lip. For a brief moment, he looked towards his desk, before turning back to Melody.  
"No...NO I WON'T LET IT FUCKING END THIS WAY!" A variety of items flew off the desk as Azinder shoved them away. "WE ARE NOT GOING DOWN LIKE THIS...I...I can't let them...the people can't...not after they...RAH!" Azinder screamed, throwing his desk chair over.

Fearing her boss could kill her at any moment, Melody slowly backed up, attempting to exit. Azinder continued panting, before turning to Melody. "Get everyone together, I want to see their butts in my office in 20 minutes, you got that?"

She did not hesitate this time, nodding, before quickly sprinting off.

Azinder turned, his hand on his face, before looking back to the door. "God-DAMN IT!"

* * *

Two employees walked out of the factory bay. One short, one tall.

"You scared the SHIT out of that new girl , you one scary ass motherfucker!"  
Charles sighed. "You gotta take your job more seriously, or you're never gonna get promoted. I got myself to Number 2 Guard."  
The other man shuttered. "That asshole Trent scares the shit of me, always sounds like he's ready to murder someone."  
"Heh. He may very well-**MMPPPHPH**!"

Suddenly, Charles was bonked on the head with a pipe, and the other guy quickly dragged into an alley.

A few seconds later, Dan and Chris emerge, wearing their uniforms.  
Knocking the dirt off his shirt, Dan looked to Chris. "Well, that went easier then expected. You've gotten much better at mugging over the years."  
Chris looked back at the unconscious man. "I'm not sure I want to get good at mugging." Dan waved his hand at Chris. "Oh please, it comes naturally after the first few months. And look on the plus side, we got their ID cards, we can get in."

The guard, busy reading his paper, briefly looked up. Two workers, one short, one tall. Must be Charles and Mack, back with coffee and donuts, he thought to himself, before resuming his paper.

"Back already boys?" he asked, flipping the page. Chris, sweating nervously, quick replied, "Oh yes, we're back, indeed, us, normal."

"Hehehe, okay boys." the guard said, more interested in his paper then them. They both quickly checked their cards, and the guard opened the gate, failing to look at their faces.

Dan and Chris continued forward, until Dan suddenly pulls Chris behind a corner. "They bought it. Ok, now, we get REVENGE!"

* * *

Finally, after two hours, Elise had finally gotten a chance to slip out when the two workers blocking the door had gone for a coffee break.

Quickly slipping into the production bay, she looked around. Everything seemed in order. Pipes carried in the intermediates from the back, a large mixing tank in the centre, a large group of workers tending to things, and a conveyor belt carrying finished containers of pesticide towards the loading bay. Nothing overly suspicious.

Using her universal card, Elise went into the back area, where the raw materials were held. Large tanks of Chlorine, Ammonia, and Phosgene were visable. Examining more closely, however, Elise noticed a set of pipes that, instead of going into the production bay, appeared to go downstairs.

"Well well well, what do we have here." Elise began checking a series of doors nearby, marked "Executives Only" until, at last, one of them revealed a staircase.  
"Jackpot." Elise whispered to herself as she descended.

Just as Elise left, Dan and Chris entered the back area.

"Jackpot." Dan said, staring at all the tanks. "This is where they keep the good stuff, we ruin the batch, their sales will plummet, they go out of business, no more pesticide outside my house."  
"I'm not sure if this is safe. The tank says "DO NOT MIX WITH WATER, MAY CAUSE RUNAWAY REACTION", and It's in yellow." Chris said, pointing to the large yellow warning sign. Dan scoffed, "Oh please that's just for the workers, all legal mumbo jumbo. Now, please hand me my pipe wrench."  
"I didn't bring a pipe wrench."  
Dan leaned forward. "What do you MEAN you didn't bring a pipe wrench? WHO DOESN'T BRING A PIPE WRENCH TO A CHEMICAL PLANT?" Shoving his hand down his face, he sighed. "Fine, guard the tanks, I'll get one myself.

* * *

Moving down the stairwell, Elise turned a corner, only to(quite literally) bump into a guard.  
In shock at her appearance, he quickly pulled out his pistol. "HEY, YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO ME HERE!:  
Before he could fire, Elise ducked down, delivering a side kick that sent the guard rolling down the stairs. "OW, OH, OOCH, OW, MY LEG, AH!"  
As he rolled to the bottom of the stairs, knocked out, Elise smiled.  
"Still got it." she said to herself, as she quietly open the door to peak into the underground room.

Elise gasped at what she saw. The pipes lead into a large pressing machine, out of which came several artillery shells. A small group of workers, dressed in black garb and armed with rifles, stuck tips on the shells, as they moved towards a large truck. There appeared to be a tunnel for the truck to use.  
This was a covert chemical weapons plant. Eagles Nest was right.

Deploying a listening device and setting it to record, Elise quickly picked up their radio frequency, listening in to the conversation.

"We got an order, 1000 phosgene shells heading to Syria."  
"Some rich guy on the line wants sarin."  
"How is our Russian friend doing, Skyler?"

Having heard enough, Elise pulled out her watch to contact eagles nest.  
"Eagles Nest, this is Dancing Shadow. I've got a confirmed CW plant here, sending the info your way."  
"Copy Dancing Shadow, we're sending in a Special Ops team to deal with it. Get to the penthouse and capture Azinder"  
"Rodger that, Dancing Shadow out."

Unfortunately, one of the workers nearby had a keen ear, and saw the door ajar. Pulling it open, he exposed Elises location.  
"HEY, SOMEONES IN HERE!"  
Suddenly, every other Black Garb worker turned, and pulled out their rifles.  
"WE GOT AN INTRUDER, SECTOR 1-ALPHA!"  
"DON'T LET HER ESCAPE"

Suddenly, a dozen sniper dots were on Elise's face.

"Crap." She said to herself, knowing this wasn't going to be clean, or quiet.

* * *

Stepping into the room, Thomas knew it was serious.  
The entire upper staff of the Azinder Chemical Combine, had gathered into the meeting office. While meetings between the group weren't uncommon, Melody had indicated he wanted them ALL there at once.

The look of fear on her eyes told him all he needed to know.

Next to her, he saw the rest of the crew. Skyler, head of the delivery team. Trent, head of security. And of course, himself, Azinders personal assistant and advisor. He had known Azinder longer then anyone else, having met him a decade prior, when they both still worked with the Russian mob. He had been smuggling all his life, and had first met Azinder in 2008, back when they were both mafia enforcers.

Despite this, he knew essentially nothing about the mans past, no one did. Azinder was known for being tight lipped.

It was that thought that caused him to realize something.

"Where's the boss?"

Melody turned to him, still somewhat uneasy. "Don't know, he said to be here in 20 minutes."

Tom rubbed his face, before asking "What's happening?"

Melody sighed. "Daza got drunk and wrecked his truck."

"Aw shit." Tom groaned, rubbing his hands on his face. "The feds are gonna be swarming us in a hot minute if we don't-"

"Gentlemen."  
The entire group turned to the noise. Whilst they were bickering amongst themselves, Azinder had entered the room.  
Slowly walking forward, his steps echoed through the suddenly quiet room. The normally professional looking Azinder had ditched his suit and tie. Combat boots thumped as they hit the ground. On his chest, a vest, decorated with ammo. His normally clean hair now strewn over his face.  
And, in his right hand, held a submachine gun, clutched tight and close to his side.

Azinder looked as though he was prepared for war.

Turning to the group with a stern look on his face, Azinder spoke. "I'm sure you're all aware of the situation we're in."

They nodded, too stricken with fear to speak.

"Hmmph." he mumbled to himself, pacing in circles very slowly. "It's more grave then you know. Tell me, if a truck, full of chemical weapons, crashed on the side of the road, wouldn't the news be all over it?"

The group held silent, before Skyler finally spoke up. "Little buggers would have a feeding frenzy." he said, with a thick Australian accent.

"And yet, not a word from anyone." Azinder spoke, before being interrupted by Tom.

"So they haven't found out yet." Tom said with glee, turning to look at Skyler. "We can go and clean it up, the feds will never-"

"No." Azinder shouted, a slight twitch radiating through his body as he continued to pace. "This isn't the feds. This isn't the FBI. This isn't the ATF. We are dealing with something far worse."

Thomas and Skyler looked at each other in confusion, before Sky turned back to Azinder. "What the hell are you talking about mate?"

Azinder grunted, taking a sip of a nearby glass of absinthe. "The news won't hear a thing until we're all 6 feet under and they've painted the story they want to get out." He spoke with fear in his words, turning to the window, staring out onto the city below.

"No...We are dealing with a force who cares not about it's people, not who it has to kill to accomplish it's goals. A cruel, cruel organization that knows no fear, and deludes all who work for it into thinking they are doing work for the good of the people. They are not."  
Azinder spoke, a sense of true fear understanding evident in his voice, as all others in the room looked at each other, the situation sinking in.  
"They are, but puppets, sent to obey their masters commands and kill all who threaten their monstrous operation. They do not choose to act. They simply obey the crooked whim of the puppet masters. The ones who really run things, despite all our efforts to the contrary."

The upper council sat there, motionless, until Thomas finally worked up the confidence to speak.  
"Azinder...with all due respect, you're making no sense. WHAT GROUP?"

He laughed. Azinder laughed a long, creepy laugh, as Thomas slowly backed up, fearing for his life.

"Oh, I'm making sense. I'm making the most sense I've made in a long time." He said, his voice turning from jovious to cold in an instant.  
"I'm, afraid I haven't been perfectly honest with you gentlemen. Why, my real-"

**RING RING RING RING**

"I'll get it." Azinder groaned, angry at the man on the other line for ruining the moment. "This better be good."

"Ahoy Hoy?"

Answering the line, Azinder quickly snapped to attention. Gunfire was evident on the other line in the background. A mans's breathing could be heard.  
"THERE'S A FUCKING MAD WOMAN WITH A GUN DOWN HERE, SHE'S..SHE'S TEARING US APART, WE NEED HELP DOWN HE-URRGH..."  
The sound of him choking resonated, followed by a soft thump, as the man hit the floor, dead.

Azinder dropped the phone, his entire body shaking violently, from his hands to his feet. "They're here." he softly said, terror in his voice.

For a moment, the room was quiet, except for the faint shaking of Azinder's feet.

Then all hell broke loose.

"Melody, go purge the computer system, delete everything, we need it down, NOW!" He screamed at Melody, as he dug behind his desk.  
"Skyler, Trent, you two, go to Lab-A.A.D., kill EVERYONE there, torch the place to the ground! Here!" he shouted, tossing a jerry can he had grabbed from behind his desk to them. "We CANNOT allow those fuckers to find out a GODDAMN THING!"

Trent cocked his rifle and started walking, as Skyler, clenching the jerry can in his hand, stuttered. "But...Sir...the scientists there, they-"

"I SAID NOW!"

Skyler gulped, before quickly running off to preform the deed. Azinder then turned to Thomas, his advisor.  
"We gotta get to the tunnels, come on, we don't have much time left!"  
"But I-"  
"Come on COME ON DO YOU WANNA DIE?! Hurry!"  
Thomas did not, in fact, want to die. And thus followed Azinder out of the room.

* * *

Dan moved from pipe to pipe, messing with various valves. Having finally found a monkey wrench, he began his master plan.

Chris, looking at all the pipes, had a look of concern on his face. "You DO know what you're doing, right Dan?"

Dan scoffed, as his hooked up a fire house to one of the valves. "Of COURSE I do. We're ruining all their precious, precious chemicals, so they stop spraying them, and stop ruining my car. Everyone wins." Dan said, before lighting a waste paper basket on fire.

Chris, jittering his fingers, stuttered out "I, I know that part Dan, I mean, are you sure you're not going to blow us up, or turn us into mutants or something."

Dan sighed nonchalantly. "Eh, probably not, I took a chemistry class in high school, ya know?"

Chris gave a brief sigh of relief, before Dan continued "Heh, I still remember burning it down."

"YOU WHAT?"

"Don't worry, I didn't pay attention to anything that didn't involve explosions."

"Then how do you know what you're doing right now."

Dan, getting angry, retorted "I fail to see how that has anything to do with the current situation. All I'm trying to do is preform a little sabotage, and here you are, critiqueing my education. You should really be less judgemental to others."

"I WASN'T...ugh...okay Dan." Chris said, giving up on the argument.

The two stood there for several seconds, waiting for something to happen.

"So...Chris, what are you having for dinner tonight?"  
Chris turned to Dan. "Well, I wanted meatloaf, but Elise says I need variety."  
"That's why I told you to dump her, but you didn't lis-"  
**  
RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE.  
**  
The chemical tank next to them began to shake violently. Dan and Chris began to slowly walk back.

"Uh oh...I MAY have screwed up my math...wait, I didn't do any math. Nevermind Chris, my track record is spotless."

"We should run." Chris said in fear as he backed away.

"That might be a good idea." Dan responded, already having turn and ran. Chris quickly followed behind him.

* * *

**BANG**

The last guard fell dead.

Taking a moment to breathe and reload, Elise looked around.

Dozens of corpses lie around. Various armed dealers and truckers dead. The once bustling production bay lay quiet, only the sounds of the conveyor built rumbled on. This did not phase Elise. Her years of training had prepared her for far worse.

Suddenly, a series of alarms rocked the area, disturbing the brief peace, as Elise pulled out her watch.

"Eagles Nest, I've been compromised. Alarms are up. Request reinforcements."

"Granted Dancing Shadow. Alter to Objective B, get to the rear vehicle yard. It's Azinders only escape route, and we want him alive. Special Ops helicopter crew ETA 10 minutes."

"Rodger that, Dancing Shadow out."

Looking to the nearby staircase, Elise quickly climbed up, entering back into the building. Stepping into one of the winding corridors of the main building, it was clear panic had set in. The sound of people running in fear echoed through the whole structure.

Her rifle at the ready, Elise marched forward, taking note of the door marking as she went, attempting to find the quickest way to the vehicle center.

**RATTA TAT TAT.**

A guard, running out from a door in front of Elise, was quickly blown away before he could even process her presence.  
Elise did not pause, continuing forward, up the stairs to the main level.

The smell of smoke quickly became apparent, as Elise grimaced her face in response. The arid particles stinging her eyes. Looking for the source, Elise quickly spotted a large wave of fire, emitting from the end of a hallway. A lone guard stood in front, staring directly into the flames, having not yet noticed Elise.

**RATTA TAT TAT.**

She didn't give him the chance.

Turning back around, dispatching another straggler, she made a final left turn, bursting through the door and into the outdoor area.

There, she saw it. A Humvee, just starting to drive off.

"Bingo."

* * *

"Thomas, start the engine, MOVE MOVE MOVE!" Azinder screamed at Thomas, turning back to look at the building behind him. Someone was running towards him. Pulling out his gun, he looked closer. It was Skyler, fear in his eyes and gas on his clothes.

"DON'T LEAVE ME!"

Azinder hesitated for a moment, almost signaling Thomas to halt, until something else caught his eye.  
It was a woman, mid height, M16 in her hands. A silverish black uniform was clearly visible. Not one of his.

"SHIT IT'S HER! DRIVE YOU SON OF A BITCH DRIVE!" Azinder barked out, Thomas abiding and flooring it.

Skyler's heart sunk. "NO, WAIT FOR M-"  
**RATTA TAT TAT.**  
Skyler fell over, dead to the mad woman's bullets.

Rocketing forward, the Humvee moved wildly, Azinder leaning out the window and firing a clip out of his gun.  
**RATTA TAT TAT**  
"DIE YOU TYRANT!"  
**RATTA TAT TAT**

The swerving mad aiming hard, and the woman took cover behind a Humvee. Azinder sighed, sitting back down in his seat, before grabbing the 2-way radio on the dashboard. "Melody, this is Azinder. We are POSITIVELY in bad shape. Need you to open the door to Tunnel B."

The radio crackled with static, before bursting to life. "We've got trouble. There's helicopters out the front. I don't have much time to-"  
Azinder groaned, then growled. "JUST OPEN THE BLOODY DOOR!"

"Yes Azinder Sir."

Bracing himself as they swerved around the corner, his eyes widened with joy. With a low grinding sound, the door to Tunnel 2 creeped open.  
Victory was at hand.

"That way Thomas!" he shouted, Thomas steadying the vehicle and speeding towards the exit when-

**BOOM  
**  
A terrific noise shook the compound, followed by a massive CLANK into the front of the Humvee, which promptly sputtered, then died.  
Recovering from the shock, they spotted the source of the problem.

About 70 feet ahead of them, to the left of the tunnel, a large tank of chemicals had exploded. Bit's of shrapnel lined the ground, one of which had struck the Humvee.  
The entrance to the tunnel itself was gone, collapsed by the force of the blast. A huge cloud of green gas spread outwards from the tank.

Azinder gasped. This had not been part of the plan. What the hell had those fuckers done?

"Humvee's dead, what do we do sir?" Thomas asked, snapping Azinder out of his brief shell shock.

"Gas Mask on, NOW!" He screamed, having snapped back into focus. "In the glove box, hurry, that's chlorine."

Thomas obeyed, slipping on his mask, as Azinder stepped out the vehicle, eyeing a nearby staircase. "The fire escape...we can reach the building on foot. Come on, we have to-"

As Azinder motioned for Thomas to follow, he heard the screech of Humvee brakes. Turning in horror, he saw it. A Humvee had just skidded to a stop, and inside it?  
It was her.  
The Mad Woman. The Agent. The Tool.

"RUN THOMAS, WE'VE GOT TO MOVE!" Azinder screeched, panic filling his voice, as he sprinted towards the catwalk with all his might.  
He HAD to get away. He...they couldn't...  
It wasn't going to end like this.

**PLONK**

A tranq dart flew into him, striking the kevlar on his false neck. Unfaltered, Azinder pushed forward, spotting an overturned crate, just below the fire escape.  
"THERE, BEHIND COVER!"

Getting around the corner, Azinder pulled out his gun, attempting to take the woman down, to no avail. With his options fading, he followed Thomas up the ladder, the sound of gunfire ringing in his ears, as the screams of his guards echoed through the compound.

Finally pulling himself up the top, Azinder could see over the wall.  
What he saw made his stomach drop.

Instead of clear fields and a open street leading to his safehouse, there were helicopters.  
Dozens of them.  
And out of each, soldiers rappelled down, row by row, forming a line that was quickly encircling the plant.

Azinder blinked. "Fuck" and for a moment, simply stared.

"Thomas, call Melody, NOW! See if she can send what's left of the guard, we need to thin out these choppers." He spoke, the words stinging his mouth as they left. "I'll keep our little agent friend from getting up here."

"Yes Sir."

But even as Tom pulled out his walkie talkie, the hope was fading fast from Azinders heart.  
Even if they managed to get to the safehouse and the escape helicopter, their stealth had been compromised. They'd know the helicopter was theirs, and shoot it down.  
It was hopeless.  
But Azinder Kursk did not know the meaning of such a word.  
Aiming up, he fired another drum at the woman. Unfortunately for him, she ducked just in time, apparently surprised he was still fighting.

"Melody, this is Thomas. We're pinned down on the west side fire escape. Have you got the computer system clear?"

After a brief moment of silence, she responded. "Yes, I've just knocked it out. Feds won't have a damn thing to grab."

Azinder smiled. "Thank god."

Thomas, suppressing a grin, quickly got back to his thought process. "We've got choppers all around. Can you send the guard to the west side, we need to clear a path to the Safehouse.

"...Uh, negative."

Thomas's heart sunk with those words. The look on Azinders face said it all.

"We've barely got anyone left as is. We've got feds in the vehicle bay and...SHIT!" Melody stuttered out, the sounds of breaking glass and footsteps audible in the background.  
"HANDS IN THE AIR, HANDS IN THE FUCKING AIR!"  
"I've been compromised. I-"  
**BZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTT**

The radio went dead.

Thomas turned to his boss, dread on his face. "Azinder! We're on our own sir."

Redirecting his attention away from The Agent, Azinder turned to Thomas. He was fresh out of plans.

"We'll...we'll have to make a run for it. Go straight for the woods and-"

BANG

Blood sprayed everywhere, as Thomas froze, a large hole in the side of his head. After a moment, he fell, a small puddle gathering around his temple.

"SHIT!" Azinder screamed, quickly jumping off the fire escape to avoid the snipers fire, hitting the ground with a THUMP, tumbling before quickly regaining his footing.

It was now or never.

Sprinting with every ounce of energy his body could muster, Azinder charged forward, towards the helicopter line.

**PLONK.**

"AGH!"  
Another tranq dart struck Azinder, slightly below his false neck on the top of his back.  
He knew he was done.

Looking behind him he caught a glimpse of who had done the deed.  
Once again, it was her, the agent, standing atop the fire escape, tranq gun in hand.  
Just his luck.

* * *

Then everything went black.

She had done it.

The tranquilizer had finally done it's job, and the man fell. Elise smiled. The people were safe from Azinder.

Walking up to the downed felon, Elise saw a tall, white man in a silverish black uniform, examining Azinder. A fellow agent.  
Pulling back Azinder's hair, he looked closer at his neck. "Kevlar Neck Piece. You're a clever bastard, ain't ya?" Looking down, the second  
tranquilizer dart stood out, partially dislodged when he fell. "But not clever enough for us. Nobody gets past us."

Turning to Elise, he held out his hand, the two shaking as equals.

"Dancing Shadow, Agent Silver Bullet. It's an pleasure to see you." He spoke, shaking it valiantly. "I haven't seen you since Libya."

"I've been busy. Glad to see a couple bullet holes couldn't stop the 'Roach of Benghazi'"

Silver Bullet chuckled. "No they did not! Nobody squashes the roach!" before tossing her a gun. "This was his gun. Looks old."

A quick examination from Elise confirmed it. Soviet made PPSh-41 Submachine Gun. Where did a terrorist like Azinder get a gun like that?

After a moment of silence, the man turned back to Azinder, picking up a briefcase. "We found this in his trench coat" he exclaimed, tossing  
the case to Elise, before walking off. "Tell Eagles Nest to give us more missions together"

After a moment of silence, the man turned back to Azinder, picking up a briefcase. "We found this in his trench coat" he exclaimed, tossing  
the case to Elise, before walking off. "Tell Eagles Nest to give us more missions together"

Quickly turning it over to inspect, a distinctive mark on the lock told her all she need to know.

A Zembik Mk-V, top of the live. One mistake could cause the briefcase to spray acid, and she didn't have the tools to disarm it on hand.  
With a sigh, Elise held onto it. Her curiosity would have to wait til she got home and could crack that puppy open.

The sound of a helicopter landing caught her attention. Looking forward, she stared at the chinook as it landed, several men stepping out.  
Two wore the usual Special Ops uniform, the last one wore a greyish brown uniform. The man, tall and black, walked up to her,giving a quick salute. Everyone in the ops knew who she was.  
"Ah, Agent Shadow, I see you took down this SOB. Nice work." He spoke with honor in his voice, holding out a hand. "People like you keep America free. God bless your soul." he shook her hand, a smile beaming off his face.

"Have you secured the target?"

"Azinder Kursk is down, prepare him for extraction." She said, helping him hoist the unconscious criminal up. Turning around, the leader looked at the other two men, slightly behind him. "Ramirez, Vasquez, load the prisoner into the helicopter."

They responded, lifting up Azinder and carrying him towards the helicopter.

Turning back to Dancing Shadow, he smiled. "Lucky you, VIP ride back to base. You ride in the back compartment, I'll be flying."

Elise did not disagree, following the man forward. The two Privates, meanwhile, lifted Azinder into the main section of the helicopter.

Stepping into the back, Elise was pleased by what she saw.  
A chair, a small TV screen, a bit of leg room.  
Being the organizations top agent certainly had it's benefits.

Settling into her seat, she relaxed, the sound of the helicopter taking off resonating through the vehicle.  
Her job may not have been the easiest, but she sleep well at night, knowing her actions would help the country at large.  
No terrorist was safe from her, no foreign government agent left alone. No one can fight a Shadow.

That made her pretty darn special, she thought to herself, watching the trees below pass by as the helicopter flew onward.

* * *

Dan and Chris had finally cleared the gate, passing the gate guard(still too engrossed in his newspaper to hear the alarms) and hopping into  
Chris's car, and driving away.

The sounds from the plant had only increased, fires spreading rapidly, the smell of smoke lingered.

Chris, hunched over and trying to drive, spoke to Dan. "Well, now, we're domestic TERRORISTS. Happy Dan?"  
He scoffed. "Oh please, one leaky tank does not a terrorist make. We're saboteurs at worst."

Just as he said that, a series of large explosions rocked the combine. Turning back to look, the duo watched as the chimney collapsed, the main building burst into flames in a series of chain explosions, and several huge plumes of green and purple gas rose from the area.  
The sound of helicopters was audible, as dozens seemed to circle the area.

"Hmm, that might be worthy of the conviction." Dan stated monotonely, as they slowly drove away.

* * *

Walking home after a long day of revenge, Dan sighed to himself. "Finally, some peace and quiet now that that STUPID factory is gone."  
**MEROEOW.**  
Looking down at the source of the noise, Dan was surprised to see Mr. Mumbles, walking down the sidewalk.  
**ME-OW. MEOW.**  
"Mr. Mumbles? How did you get out here?" Dan said in a rare soft tone. Leaning down to pick up his cat, he began stroking her fur as he walked. "Awww. Wait til I tell you about today's revenge. I stole a uniform, blew up a chemical plant, OH, and Chris is really improving on his mugging skills, I think he-" Dan suddenly stopped as he turned the corner. Casa Paradiso was in flames. A large group of firemen  
were nearby, having been almost extinguished.  
"What the...WHAT HAPPENED?" Dan shouted, running towards the firemen. "Textbook case of a cooking fire. Some moron must have left his stove on. But don't worry citizen, the rest of the building was saved."

"What, that's MY apartment. ARE YOU CALLING ME A MORON? NO ONE CALLS ME A MORON!"  
The two fireman glanced at each other, then back at the burnt out apartment, before walking away.  
Dan stood there, staring at what was left of his home. Walking up, he saw the burnt remains of his cooking book.  
"Recipe book, you have forsaken me." he shouted, throwing the burnt remains at the debris, causing a scorched pan to hit his head.  
**"GRRRRRRRR...COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNG!"**


	2. Cooking

**Hey guys, finally finished the long awaited...well, not sequel, but successor to "Dan Vs The Factory".  
Both exist in the same universe, this is all part of a chronicles series I call "Dan Vs Everything"  
I hope you all leave long and detailed reviews, and I HOPE TO GOD that I did a better job then last time. Please, tell me how in did in great detail, compare it to the last one.  
Anyway, let's get this show on the road.**

* * *

Walking home after a long day of revenge, Dan sighed to himself. "Finally, some peace and quiet now that that STUPID factory is gone."  
MEROEOW.  
Looking down at the source of the noise, Dan was surprised to see Mr. Mumbles, walking down the sidewalk.  
ME-OW. MEOW.  
"Mr. Mumbles? How did you get out here?" Dan said in a rare soft tone. Leaning down to pick up his cat, he began stroking her fur as he walked. "Awww. Wait til I tell you about today's revenge. I stole a uniform, blew up a chemical plant, OH, and Chris is really improving on his mugging skills, I think he-" Dan suddenly stopped as he turned the corner. Casa Paradiso was in flames. A large group of firemen  
were nearby, having been almost extinguished.  
"What the...WHAT HAPPENED?" Dan shouted, running towards the firemen. "Textbook case of a cooking fire. Some moron must have left his stove on. But don't worry citizen, the rest of the building was saved."

"What, that's MY apartment. ARE YOU CALLING ME A MORON? NO ONE CALLS ME A MORON!"  
The two fireman glanced at each other, then back at the burnt out apartment, before walking away.  
Dan stood there, staring at what was left of his home. Walking up, he saw the burnt remains of his cooking book.  
"Recipe book, you have forsaken me." he shouted, throwing the burnt remains at the debris, causing a scorched pan to hit his head.  
"GRRRRRRRR...COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNG!"

* * *

**DAN  
VS  
COOKING**

* * *

Chris was sitting on the coach. Shoving another handful of extra buttery popcorn in his face, he relaxed, turning up the volume on the tv.  
"Next up on WTV, we're airing the hit film, Humongobots 7: Revenge of the Dark HoneyBee Age, followed by All Hallows Day: Reshuffled."  
"Oh boy I love Humongobots!" Chris said joviously, eating more popcorn. "Then tomorrow, 5 hours of Heck's Kitchen, and then we premiere-"

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK "CHRIS! CHRIS, LET ME IN, IT'S FREEZING OUT HERE!"

Chris sighed. "I can't get a free moment, can I?" he mumbled to himself, opening the window. Dan, leaning against the window, fell forward into the house. "Chris, get dressed, we need to get revenge on the art of cooking. They've wronged-"  
"Dan, I'm going to stop you right there. You LITERALLY just got revenge on that factory barely an hour ago, I'M trying to relax and watch some TV so I don't go crazy from the stress of being a potential terrorist. Can't this wait til morning?"

Dan seemed to angry for a second, before stopping to think. "Yes, we'll attack at breakfast, their most important hour, they'll be so busy with the syrup operation they'll never see it coming, until we DESTROY THEM." Dan yelled, smiling wickedly. We'll discuss it over our morning fast food run, in the meantime I'm sleeping in Elise's room, my apartment burned down." Dan said nonchalantly, as Chris raised a  
hand in objection, before suddenly dropping his jaw as he processed what he heard.  
"YOU'RE APARTMENT BURNED DOWN? HOW? Also how did you know Elise wasn't here?"

Dan turned to Chris. "Cooking. Cooking has destroyed my humble abode! All I could salvage were my microscope kit, a toaster, and some duct tape!" Dan noted, as he handed the items in question to Chris. "I'll get my revenge. As for how I knew Elise wasn't here, I've noticed that within 15 seconds of me attempting to enter your house Elise will show up, usually brandishing some sort of weapon."

Chris glanced around. "How did you kno-" before being cut off my Dan. "Well what ELSE am I supposed to do in my free time? Socialize? Pssh, as if. Anyway, do you have any food, a long day of sabotage works up an appetite." Dan said proudly as he entered the kitchen.

Chris sighed. "I should probably call Elise. She should have been home hours ago." Chris said to himself, entering her phone number.  
"There must be a party at the office...or yard...or...actually come to think of it I'm not exactly sure where she works..."

"She's probably left you for a man who doesn't eat pig intestines for sport."  
"DAN! Elise has not left me and-HEY, don't touch the fridge!" Chris screamed in vain at Dan, before being cut off by Elise answering her cell.

The sound of helicopter blades was audible in the background as she spoke. "Hello, this is Agent Dancing Shadow, with whom do you-"  
"Elise? What are you talking about? This is Chri-"  
"Oh, Chris, sorry, uh, work party, yes, uh, crazy, uh. I'm a, probably gonna be overnight, I'm uh, too drunk to get home. Yes."  
Chris turned, very much confused. "I can come pick you up if you-"  
"OH NO, NONONONO, I'm fine where I am, I'll a, be there tomorrow, I-" Several noises could be heard over the phone, a thumping, followed by two large clanks. Elise sighed "What the hell are those idiots doing up therrrr-uhhh." Elise paused, suddenly remembering Chris was on the line. "Chris, I'll talk to later, I have to help with a-"** BANG** "SHIT!" the phone call suddenly went dead.

"Huh" Chris said, scratching his head. "Must be some party." He then turned, entering the kitchen. "AHHH! NOT MY CAKE!"

* * *

The next morning, Chris wakes up. Looking to his left, he notices a distinct lack of Elise. "Strange...she should have been home by now"  
Chris said wondering, before suddenly smelling something. "Did I cook bacon in my sleep again?" Chris asked, walking to the kitchen.

"DAN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"  
What he was doing was torching every cook book in Chris's kitchen. Thick smoke poured from the pile, as Dan danced around manically.  
"I'm doing to them what these FILTHY books did to my home!" Dan screamed, as Chris struggled with the fire extinguisher, accidentally spraying himself in the face before finally putting out the fire.

"Are you TRYING to BURN DOWN my house, too? You ought to be more-"  
Chris was suddenly cut off by Dan. "I DIDN'T BURN DOWN MY HOUSE, THE COOKING BOOKS DID! Cooking is a dark art, first, they lure you in, with promises of "fEeLiNg hEaLtHiEr" or "lOsInG wEiGhT" whatever THAT'S supposed to mean!" Dan shouted sarcastically. "Then, suddenly youend up spending 200 dollars on exotic kale and purple carrots, until you go broke, and have to spend the last of your days slaving away in the kale fields"

"I don't think that's how that works Dan."

"And that's just the health food. Their appliance overlords compel them to purchase more and more, I mean, who NEEDS a slightly more convenient slab of butter so badly they'd pay 19.99 for it? Who needs burgers so bad they can't wait for a stove? What kinda fat, lazy, excuse for a human being needs that?"

Chris licked his lips. "Mmmm, butter burgers."

"YOU'RE MISSING THE POINT!" Dan shouted in frustration. "It's all part of their master plan, they sell you the recipe book, then they sell you the food you need to FOLLOW those recipes, then sell you the appliances to cook that food. It's the biggest scam since the public banking system, and WE need to stop it." Dan said, before grabbing the TV remote. "I mean, look at this trash." He mumbled, turning on the  
television.  
A show quickly came on. "This is Drongo Smeary with 'Cooking Nightmares!' Last time, Drongo shut down a brewery for using lighter fluid and urine as ingredients, and today, he's going to show you the wonders of cooking, with the official Betty Crocker cook book. And then-"  
BBBBZZZZZZZZZT. Dan changed the channel.  
"Hey, Willy Ways with the Burger Boy 7 Slider-"  
BZZZZZT.  
"Hi it's Vance with-"

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Dan threw the remote at the TV, before sighing. "These jerks earn millions off of basic human needs. WeNEED to stop this here and now. Right Chris?" Dan stated, beaming with pride, before noticing the odd silence. "Uh, Chris?"

Chris seemed disinterested. "Yeah, hey Dan, do you know where Elise is. She said something last night about a party, and she should have been home by now."

"She's probably at a love hotel in San Fran by now, making love to a more attractive man." Dan said with a melancholy tone, as he grabbed his shoes.

Chris quickly started to panic. "DAN, JUST STOP! We...she wouldn't have left me right? RIGHT? Oh no, OH NO! Dan I-"

"We can discuss finding you a better wife later, now get in the car, we have to attack at breakfast! When they least suspect!"

* * *

"So, why exactly are we going to the farmers market? I thought you were going after cooking, not health food." Chris asked, somewhat confused.  
"Health food is merely the first step, we need to knock out the base of this pyramid first, then the rest will come crumbling down." Dan exclaimed, stepping out of the vehicle.  
Chris continued, "But, like half the stuff here isn't even for cooking!"  
Dan paused for a second, before shrugging. "Eh, a few civilian casualties are to be expected in a war. Collateral damage."

Walking up to the farmers market, they could overhear several people talking. "Here's your raw celery sir, that will be 7.88." Crunchy handed him the money. "Man, I saw an ad for this place last night on TV, I'll shop here more often, It's like, totally wicked broface"

Dan stopped. "You see that Chris, these poor, poor people, slaves to this pyramid of lies. We'll bring it down though." Dan said deviously, as he pulled out 2 spray bottles. "You cover the greens, I'll hit the fruit."

Chris stared at the bottle in his hand. "PLEASE tell me this isn't full of defoliants."

Dan laughed. "Oh please, after our little...uh.."broccoli incident", the government won't let me near the stuff. I think they have my face on a poster." Dan said, slightly curious.

Chris gave a sigh of relief."Whew, okay." and began spraying the bottle on some bockchoy.

Dan continued. "We don't need fancy chemicals anyway. A all natural problem requires all natural solutions, so my Salmonella side project came in handy."

Chris continued spraying for a few seconds, before suddenly realizing what Dan had said. "...Dan...are we spraying this produce with Salmonella?" Chris sputtered out, stammering and shaking.

Dan chuckled. "Of course not silly."  
"Whew."  
"I'M spraying them with Salmonella, you're using ."  
"Oh okay...WAIT WHAT!?" Chris shouted, finally comprehending the situation. "DAN, why didn't you TELL me there was bacteria in the sprayers?"

"I figured you'd spray faster If I didn't tell you. Also, I'd keep your voice down if I was you." Dan whispered, as several people stared at them, concerned.

Chris pulled Dan close, whispering. "Dan, I am NOT committing an act of terrorism. Besides, anyone who actually cooks it would be fine, you're only hurting your own cause. Along with dozens of innocent people, which I will not be a part of."

Dan raised his hand, before smiling "Good thinking, Chris! We need something heat-resistant ... Oh! Stay here, I'll go get the arsenic."

"NO DAN, we are NOT poisoning all these people! There has to be a better way to..SNIFF SNIFF...do I smell burgers?"

Chris, looking around, spotted the source of the smell. Food trucks, on the corner about two blocks away. "And I think I just found one."

* * *

A sad food trucker is standing by his car, smoking a cigarette. Another one stands nearby, sipping a mickey.

"Damn farmers market, running us out of business. It's goddamn tourist season, and here we are, standing penniless on a bloody street corner, smoking fags and drinking whiskey."

"I hare yaa Will." the other man said drunkenly."Soomeboby shouldz tall thase, thase yerks to pissh off."

"Ain't much we can do, I'm afraid." William said, taking another puff. "You should really lay off the vodka mate. S'not good for ya."

"Pissh off, I'll shtahp whem I've han enuff."

"Gentleman, I may have your solution." Dan suddenly walked up, Chris in tow. "How would you two like to knock that market out of the game?"

The two men glanced at each other.

* * *

"This place is the cheese, brahface. Like, totally glad I got a job here." Crunchy commented, handing a woman a bag of fresh produce.

A woman nearby replied. "I know, plus it's low calorie. I need to lay off the junk food for a while." She said, pinching her pudgy paunch to punctuate the point. "Stress of running a business is getting to me."

"Hehe, yeah, I..." suddenly, Crunchy's ears twitched. "Woah, do you also hear, like ... a swarm of gas guzzling vehicles, coming to destroy us? Accompanied by the dazzling smell of mustard?"

A fleet of four food trucks fast approached. Crunchy gasped, "No...NO, NOT THOSE TWO AGAIN! I JUST GOT THIS JOB!"  
The trucks did not listen.

"TAKE THIS COOKING!" Dan screamed, leaning out his window.  
Chris, driving starboard, continued sniffing "You think we can eat some of this when we're done?" He asked, deep in thought about hotdogs.  
Dan turned to face him "Of course we can – once the battle is won, they're all ours!"  
William looked at the two. "I'dunno who you blokes are, or what the bloody hell is going on in your head, but thanks."  
Dan groaned. "WHAT STRANGE THOUGHTS FILL MY HEAD ARE NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!"  
William gulped, going quiet.  
"Ish gonnva be a gwrate taame, lep's geb em!" The other man, Anguiss, slurred, swerving back and forth.  
William glanced over in concern. "Uh, which one of you two gave him the keys, he REALLY should not be driving."  
Dan shrugged. "Eh, so we lowered our recruitment standards a bit, focus on the task at hand troops."

The crowd of people quickly dispersed in terror, as the quartet drifted into a row of market stands.  
Barrels of apples, bushels of kale, all went flying as the cars shredded through.  
The four stopped nearly simultaneously, hopping out of the trucks. (Well, except Anguiss, who rolled over the truck, and stumbled out, drunkinly mumbling) walking towards the crowd of people, cowering at the madmen who had raided their market.

"Slaves of the Cooking Industry! We have come to liberate you from your toil, you have nothing to lose, but your...HEY, ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME!" The crowd, less concerned about the price of kale and more concerned about escaping the four maniacs, were indeed not listening  
instead running for their lives. "Hey, we're trying to liberate you! WE ATLEAST DESERVE THANKS!"

William turned to Dan. "Well, you DID just run over all their stalls and nearly kill them. What did you THINK was going to happen."  
Dan paused. "Fair point, they don't know what freedom is yet. This calls for drastic measures."

Walking back to the food cart with a prideful stride in his step, Dan pulled out a comedically large red marker, scrawling a single word.  
FREE.

William sighed. "There's no way in hell that's going to-"  
"Oh boy free food." The two turned.  
Chris had already gone up to the food cart in a zombie like fashion. Dan smiled, his plan was working.  
"You, William, man the station. I'll recruit the masses!" William shrugged, at this point, having already destroyed an entire market, he had little else to lose at this point, and walked back into his truck, handing some food to Chris.  
Dan, grabbing a megaphone from a nearby overturned cart, shouted "FREE FOOD! GET YOUR FREE FOOD HERE, LOTS OF FREE FOOD!"

Within mere moments, remnants of the crowd began to shuffle back towards them. What's a little attempted vehicular homicide compared to the allure of fast food?

Pretty soon, the horde of foodies had gathered. William tossed bags of food into the crowd(probably fearing what would happen if he didn't) as Dan, partway through a long speech, continued to preach his ideas. "-the slavery and toil in the factory or workshop — the cheerless home, if the places where they are forced to herd together can be called homes. Is this life worth living!?"

The crowd, did not listen. They just stuffed their gullets full of greasy goodness.

"HEY, YOU KIDS GIVE ME BACK MY BURGER!" Chris yelled, as a group of teenagers snatched the large bundle of food he had been carrying. Chris gave chase, he wasn't giving up his food that easily.  
PING!  
Sigh, "There goes my diet."  
The jean button on the woman from earlier gave out, allowing her large paunch to spill out.  
Nearby, a large man tore his way into the overturned remains of Anguiss's truck, grabbing whatever he could fit into his maw.  
Anguiss did not complain, as he was far, FAR too drunk to figure out what was going on anymore, and could in fact, barely stand.

Crunchy crawled forward, ducking down as a loose drink container flew towards him. As he reached the end of the crowd, he turned to Dan.  
"Not cool bro. Not cool." before darting into a nearby alley.

Suddenly, sirens rang through the air, as a group of police cars approached to quell the feeding frenzy.  
"-very nature of the State prev-...ents...huh?" Dan suddenly stopped his speech, noticing the fuzz. "Uh oh. CHRIS, WE GOTTA GO!"  
"Real nice Dan, I just missed a free meal!"  
"Patience where it need be, Chris! Those teenagers probably taste awful, anyway. Besides, every step of my plan will take us to a source of food! But right now we-"  
Reaching the edge of the crowd, freedom in grasp, a police officer stepped in front, stopping them in their tracks.

"Hold up...you two." He looked back and forth between the duo. "Either of you have any idea what started this riot?"  
"Yes officer, these two men crashed their food trucks into this humble market. One of them was clearly inebriated. They're right over there, behind that overturned truck." Dan said quickly, putting on his best innocent voice.  
"Thank you citizen." He said loudly, as Dan and Chris breathed a sigh of relief. "Damn drunk drivers, always breaking stuff." he mumbled walking off.

"Well, that was a close one. Come on Chris, I'll get you some Burgerphile."  
Chris looked back "Thanks but...shouldn't we help out those two. I mean, we just-"  
"Eh, you need to break a few eggs to make an omelette, frame a few truckers to start a revolution, you know?" he said, shrugging.  
"I don't think that's how that goes." Chris said, as we got into the car. So, after we had burgers, can I go home? Elise is probably back by now"  
Dan laughed. "Not yet, my flabby friend. This is only the first step. We shall destroy their appliance armada. But not right now. Take me  
to Burgerphile."  
Chris, confused, looked at Dan "But, when are we-"  
"When they next let down their guard: Lunch time"

* * *

Dan and Chris are eating at Burgerphile. Dan is happily munching a burger, while Chris slowly nibbled his fries.  
"See Chris. Processed, hormone filled, factory fed goodness, the way corporations intended." Dan said, gesturing to his burger, before noticing Chris's state. "Chris, usually when fried food is put in front of you you enter a trance and don't stop until everything is gone. What's gotten into you?"

Chris sighed. "It's just...I'm worried about Elise. She hasn't called back since last night, she said she was at a party and-"  
"And?" Dan gestured to Chris to continue.  
"...I think she might be cheating on me."

"Bah. Giiiirrrlz. Who need em. Remember Chris, bros before hoes."  
Chris stood "Elise is not...well I...I...ugh...I don't know what to do."

Dan sighed. "I know what you mean Chris. You meet in a non humble matter, you conserve ever so often, your relationship starts to blossom."

Chris looked down. "I suppose you-"

"Things are looking up, you two know each other well." Dan continued, despite Chris. "She calls you boyfriend, she helps you with your cause. Everything is going well."

Chris blinked. "Are we still talking about me and Eli-"

"Then, some STUPID PATHETIC RICH FAT CAT COMES IN. He swoons her over with talks of money and fancy cars and stuff."

Frowning, Chris looked away. This wasn't about him any more.

"And then she leaves. And you think,'Oh, she'll come back soon, he doesn't love her.' " Dan shouted, continuing to pace. "Then, like a crooked cult, he slowly eases her in, until she's inducted in, and his greasy paws are all over her."

As Chris kept his head down in shame, the Burgerphile employee at the counter sighed. "Great, here he goes again, ranting about his girl."

"AND THEN, AND THEEN, you TRY to break her out of that twisted trap, but NO, she's too far gone, and, and-"

"Uh...Dan?" Chris said, cautiously tapping Dan's arm.

Dan turned around, enraged. "WHAT!" he screamed, his face red.

Chris stumbled, before suddenly gaining the courage to speak. "It's uh, It's noon Dan."

Suddenly snapping out of his rant, Dan turned to look at the clock. "Oh. Come on Chris, It's vengeance hour!"

* * *

"Where do we-"

"Turn right at Seville Boulevard, left at Grove Street, drive past the Fish Factory, right at Mulholland Drive, if you see the old pier you've gone too far." Dan said calmly, yet quickly. Chris held his hands firm on the steering wheel. "There's a product showcase going on in a building on Sunset Street. We need to cut down the mechanized army of the Cooking Empire."

Turning right as instructed, Chris spoke. "You know Dan, hearing you're...uh... 'advice', made me realize something."

Dan held stoic. "That Jerimiah Burger is a predatory cultist?"

"Yes, I MEAN NO. Dan...I...What I mean is, Elise hasn't spoken to any other men lately. She spends most of her time in the garage on work stuff. She's probably off working, like always. Hmm...wonder where she is right now..." Chris pondered to himself.

* * *

**SOMEWHERE OVER THE SIERRA NEVADAS**

Elise opened her eyes, her vision strained. How long had she been out?

Crawling forward, she grasped her side. One of her ribs was DEFINITELY broken.

"Wha-what happened?"

Holding her pounding head, she looked around. Smoke was in the air. Crawling forwards, she recalled where she was. Helicopter, mission, evacuation, explosion, prisoner.

Pulling herself ahead, she was glad to see the exit was unobscured. Tumbling out of the door, she reached for her watch.

"Eagles Nest, this is Dancing Shadow. The Helicopter went down. Everyone else appears to be dead, the guards, the pilot, including our..."  
Suddenly stopping, she noticed something just in front of her. A pair of broken handcuffs.

"Oh no."

* * *

"Yup, I'm sure she's fine." Chris stated proudly, a smile shining 'cross his face.

"Nice, anyway, did you bring a crowbar like I asked."

"Yeah, It's in the back. Dan, we're crowbaring the APPLIANCES, not the people who use them, right?"

Dan put his hand on Chris's shoulder, waving his finger. "Chris, you think too low of me. The people there are mere pawns."

"Oh, ok."

"Well, except maybe the salesmen. We can crowbar them."

"Wait what?"

* * *

Entering the large room, our duo was immediately overwhelmed by the sight of row upon row of tables, each fitted with a display, clearly attempting to sell whatever brand of doohicky they had.

Suddenly, a man, holding a strange spatula, popped out in front of them"The Burger Boy will allow you to flip 7 burgers at once, why, for only 19.99, you can-"

"Get off me!" Dan shouted, pushing away the spatula as he marched forward.

"Excuse me, but do YOU ever have trouble peeling potatoes?" A woman spoke, holding up the we have the Potato Master! It'll make peeling potatoes a snap!"

Scoffing, Dan dragged Chris forward. "Stupid people, stupid appliance. ...peel potatoes, I'll peel HER potatoes...hmmmph." Dan mumbled, attempting to think of a plan. Walking into the main stage area, Dan stared in disgust.

A man in a blue apron stood on the stage. In his hand, a small orange cloth.

"Hey, this is Vance Lance, with the Bop Chop. You're gonna be joyous for dayz, cause you be bopping your problems away with the Bop Chop!" He said proudly, holding up the odd device.

Dan sighed, shaking his head. "This is just sad. Chris, you distract this appliance jockey, volunteer as a blender man or something. I'll go set the storage room on fire."

"Dan wait!" But Dan was already gone. Sighing, Chris waited for a moment, until Vance took notice of him.

"You there, dear sir, do you like tofu?"

Chris, panicking, stumbled on his words. "Uh, why I...uh.."

Vance, not fully listened, pulled Chris onto the stage. "Well, you need to add some excitement to your tofu. Exciting tofu, exciting life."  
Putting a fat cube of tofu under the blade, he gestured to this. "Come on, bop it!"

Attempting to work the device, Chris slapped down...only to find it working surprisingly well. Testing it further, he was pleasantly surprised. "Wow, this actually works well!"

Vance smiled. "Well folks, if you buy in the next 5 minutes, we'll throw in the Wha-Sham, the top towel in town, absolutely free!"  
He continued ranting, as Chris glanced at the Bop-Chop, before leaning down to put his ear to it. "50 dollar value, for only 2 easy payments of 19.99. That's right, I-" But Vance was cut off, as Chris suddenly stood up.

"Wait a minute, is there a motor in this thing?" Chris said, shaking the device to confirm, when suddenly several B-Batteries rolled out.  
"Wha...batteries! This thing was supposed to be hand powered!"  
Vance, realizing his plan was unfolding, attempted to redirect attention. "Well...I'll throw in a second Wha-Sham, completely-"  
Chris, quickly getting peeved, walked over, tearing open the towel. Several napkins and paper towels fell out. "This is just a bunch of paper towels wrapped in fabric. You're a fraud!"

Vance looked side to side, before attempting to run. He was, however, quickly overwhelmed, as the crowd quickly swarmed the stage attacking him.

Hopping off the stage, Chris stood confident. He had exposed that fraud, helped these people. Truly, he had made a-

"Uh, Chris, we gotta go."  
Dan had suddenly appeared. His hair was slightly damp, and the smell of petrol hung on his clothes. The corner of his shirt was singed. "Good job with Vance Pants over there, by the way." he said to Chris, feeling proud. He then rapidly turned back. "Fire in the backroom is spreading fast, this place doesn't have sprinklers, and there's only one exit. We should get out of here. Now."

Speedily dragging Chris behind him, they both got out the exit quickly. By this time, the crowd(busy pounding Vance to the ground) finally noticed the fire, and began to panic as fire quickly spread.

* * *

"Man, you'd think people would learn inward opening doors are nothing, but trouble." Dan stated, looking back at the smoking building as they drove away.

Chris held the wheel with newfound confidence. "You know Dan, it really felt good exposing Vance as a fraud. Like, like i'm helping the people. It feels liberating."

Dan beamed. "Aww, someones gotten their first taste of revenge. It's quite an addictive mistress."

Chris shook his head slightly, tilting his hand. "Ehhh, not sure I'd call it that."

Scoffing, Dan rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Anyway, that drive took longer then I planned, we're gonna need to move fast if we want to cut the head of this organization by dinner."

"What head?" Chris asked, visibly confused. "I thought you wanted to go after...uh." Chris paused, thinking back to Dans morning rant. "...recipe books?"

"We need to go after the one behind the books. The mastermind behind this whole scheme. Betty Crocker."

Chris stirred at this news. "The...that woman on all the recipe books, bu..Dan, she doesn't even exist, just a mascot the company came up with." Chris said, losing patience with Dan.

"That's just what they WANT you to think. " Dan shouted, holding out his fist. " It's all a conspiracy to destroy the fast food industry, haven't you been listening to "The Lie" recently?"

Chris kept his eyes firm on the road. "Elise says listening to KLIE could be negatively effecting me."

"Oh yeah, sure, trust your lifelong partner over a local conspiracy theorist. Typical." Dan scoffed at Chris. "Now drive."

"I don't even know where you want me to go!" Chris shouted in anger. "You've been ranting this whole time!"

"DON'T QUESTION ME!" Dan screamed at the top of his lungs, turning red in the face. "San Francisco, NOW DRIVE!"

* * *

Stumbling out of HQ, Elise looked down. She had broken her arm in the helicopter crash.

"Great, not only do I break my arm and lose a high priority prisoner, but how am I going to explain this to Chris."

Looking to the right, she saw a man walking down the street, before being hit by a bicyclist. "AGH, MY LEG!"

Smirking to herself, Elise walked towards her personal taxi, her story prepared.

* * *

**Vrrrrrp.**  
The car ground to a stop. Stepping out, the duo looked at the building. 'FreezerBurn Cooking Company'. This was it.  
Chris licked his lips. "Hey, these guys make Twonkies. And Zo-Zos. And Butterballs. Mmmm...maybe we can just grab a quick snack and-"

"No more snacks, we're already behind and I'm not gonna miss the season finale of "Population Control Johnny" " Dan mentioned, as he steppedout of the car. "Come on Chris, time to finish this." Dan said, walking towards the building.  
"Ok, to get in, we're going to need some C-4, sparklers, smoke machine, sunglasses, and a boombox." Dan monologued as he paced. "First we'll start by-"

"Or we could take the fire escape." Chris shouted from above, having already climbed up.  
Dan smiled. "You're learning fast Chris, keep this up and you'll be a true agent of vengeance."

Climbing onto the roof, the two scope the area.  
"There, a stairwell!" Chris pointed out, before Dan stopped him. "Wait, here, take these." He said, handing a chef hat to Chris.  
Chris blinked. "Where'd ya get that."  
"I stole it from the backroom when everyone else was attacking Vance." Dan noted. "They're surprising comfortable."  
Putting on the hats, Dan leaned over. "Let me do the talking, I once spent 3 hours in a chef gulag, I know their lingo."

Shrugging, Chris followed Dan down the stairs.

As they walked down the halls, Chris couldn't help, but notice the large amount of pictures of various chefs on the wall.  
"Dan, who are all these people?"  
Dan shrugged. "Eh, I dunno, probably just a former ringleader in this scheme. This way, we got to get to the-"  
"Stop."

A chef had spotted them coming down the hallways. Sweating, Chris gulped. It was up to Dan.  
Looking back and forth, Dan put forth his best Pseudo-French accent, and spoke.  
"Look man, me and my collaborateur just went to the roof for a quick smoke, please, do not tell the directeur, it is our first day."  
The man glanced back and forth. "No worry, monami. I understand, no problème." he said, before walking off.  
"Nailed it." Dan whispered, doing a fist pump. "Come on, It's time to put Betty in her place."

* * *

"This must be it."

After a relatively short search, they had found the room labeled "Betty" in fancy writing. A large padlock hung on the door.  
Chris looked at it, confusion hung on his face. "Why would they have a padlock on the leader's office?"  
"I dunno, paranoia probably." Dan said nonchalantly, pulling out a crowbar and going to work on the lock. "People seem to be constantly convinced someone is out to get them."  
"Oh yeah, can't see why they'd think that." Chris said sarcastically, gesturing to Dan, who rolled his eyes.  
**  
CLANK.**

The lock dropped to the ground. Grabbing the door knob, Chris quietly pulled it open.

Inside, a woman sat, huddled over her desk, scribbling away at some notes. Dan silently approached, his crowbar at his side, ready to swing.  
"DAN NO!" Chris yelled, while attempting to keep his voice down. But it was too much. The woman quickly stood up, ducking just in time.

"Oh GOD, PLEASE NO!" The woman screamed, crawling backwards into the corner in a desperate attempt to escape Dan. "I'll write faster, I'll cry less, just please, please, don't kill me..." She cried as she spoke, tears streaming down her face.

Dan stopped, just before lowering the crowbar. This wasn't the reaction he expected. Still, he had a mission to accomplish, so semi-reluctantly, he raised his crowbar, before Chris stepped in. "Dan, can't we...can't we just maybe talk this out? I mean, look at her."  
He turned to Chris, livid. "THIS ISN'T THE TIME, WE NEED TO STOP THIS WOMAN AND HER EVIL CORPORATION RIGHT NOW, BEFORE THEY-"  
"Wait, you're NOT with Freezer Burn?" The woman said, a look of hope filling her face.  
Dan turned back to the woman. "Of course not! We're just here to destroy your conglomerate, so, if you could hold still-"  
"I DON'T RUN THE COMPANY, THEY KIDNAPPED ME!"

..."What?"

Dan and Chris both stepped back.

"My real name is Mary Suszinski, these guys kidnapped me to write the recipe books for them, I don't run a thing, I never even leave this room!" The woman shouted, shaking profusely. "They said they needed a real person to add that special touch. I..I miss my family."

Chris looked at her in shock. "Dan, they're...they're kidnapping people! We need to help this woman!"

Dan rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "Hmm...I dunno if we can trust her. I didn't bring all these explosives for nothing."  
The woman screamed. "BURN THE PLACE TO THE BLOODY GROUND, JUST HELP ME!"  
"Alright, she's legit." Dan said, tossing a briefcase to Chris. "Chris, go set the explosives."  
"I don't know how to-"  
"There's a manual in the back, place it anywhere that looks important, I'll help this woman out." Dan talked, as he helped her to her feet.  
For the first time in years, Mary smiled.

"Oh, thank you, thank you." she cried. "What was your name."  
Dan stepped back, he wasn't used to this kind of praise. "Uh...Dan. Dan Mandel." He said awkwardly, almost unsure of himself.  
"Thank you Dan, I...wait, why do you have explosives on you? You didn't know I was here, right?"

"Oh no, the company burned my house down, well not them directly but...well the point is, I'm taking revenge on the company by blowing them up, I do this sort of thing daily."  
Mary turned her head. "What do you mean, this sort of thing?"  
Dan smiled. "Oh, you know, rig a jury, rob the bank for ripping me off, going after Barry Dipmer, lot's of things, I actually have a list."  
Her jaw dropped. "What the fu- ok, you know what, never mind, we need to go get that bastard." She grumbled before walking off.

"Uh, who exactly? This situation is getting more confusing by the minute, who the hell is running this place?"

"TV chef Drongo Smeary."

* * *

"WHERE THE HELL IS MY FACE CREAM?" Smeary screamed, looking in a mirror. "I CAN'T BE LOOKING LIKE SOME GREASY PEON ON MY SHOW!"  
Dan and Mary stood near the door, watching the tall middle aged man walk around.  
"That's the guy" Mary whispered. "He kidnapped me a couple months back."  
Dan frowned. "That JERK!"

**RING RING RING RING.**

The phone rang, distracting Smeary. "Hello?" he asked, as Dan and Mary quickly tiptoed into the room, ducking behind an oven. Dan pulled out a tape recorder. "You see Mary, first rule of revenge. Always bring a tape recorder. I learned that while framing someone before."  
Mary shrugged, It wasn't worth asking.  
"Yes, It's me." Smeary spoke, the voice on the other end too quiet to make out.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT BURNED DOWN? I HAD TO PAY A PRETTY PENCE TO GET VANCE TO STAY QUIET!"

"WHO?"

"THEN GO AND FUCKING FIND OUT!"

As Smeary ranted on the phone, Dan and Mary crawled between the various pieces of kitchen equipment, heading towards the next room.

"Yeah, progress, but not bloody fast enough."

"DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY LOCATIONS BURGERPHILE HAS? THAT'S A DROP IN THE BUCKET!"

"Yeah Jamie, I know Burger Bonanza might not make it through this business year, but that's NOT my bloody point!"

"DON'T YOU CALL ME A WANKER YOU BLOODY WANK-"  
**CLANG.** The sound of a cooking instrument falling. Smeary turned. He wasn't alone.  
"...I'll call you back."

Putting his phone down, the man looked back and forth. One of his prongs had fallen to the ground, and several of his pans were swinging.  
"Hello? Anyone here? Is someone looking for my autograph?"  
Grabbing a large knife off the rack, he slowly walked into the next room.

**WHAM!** A pan hit him straight in the face, knocking him off his balance.  
"TAKE THAT!" Dan shouted, smiling proudly, before quickly remembering the task at hand, as Smeary growled at him, holding out his knife.  
**CLANG, CLANG, CLANG!**  
The sound of metal clashing rattled through the room, as a makeshift sword fight occurred. Dan with his pan, Drango with his knife.  
"How dare you try to hurt fast food!" Dan asked as he parried the blow. "What did it ever do to you?"  
**CLANG!** "Cooking is a sacred art!" **CLANG** "The fast food industry is ruining the spirit!" **CLANG!**  
Dan scowled. "Oh COME ON! I've seen how so called 'high class' restaurants work!" **CLANG** "Nothing but a slave camp!"** CLANG!** "A slave camp that crushes every culinary spirit it can get its corrupt hands on!" **CLANG** "Fast food shall LIBERATE US!"  
BASH. Dan had gotten too deep into his rant, allowing Smeary to knock the pan out of his hand. Smeary grinned, holding up his knife.  
"Uh oh...I uh, I'd love to chat, but I left the stove running!" Dan stuttered as he quickly ran off, Smeary close behind.

Dashing into the next room, Dan found himself in a kitchen. An idea entered his head.  
Smeary slide in behind him, looking back and forth to find Dan.

"HEY, SMEARFACE!" Smeary turned to face the noise. Dan, standing on top of a large counter, had dawned a chef hat and wielded two spatulas.  
"Come and get me!"

"YOU'RE NOT EVEN HOLDING THE SPATULA RIGHT, YA DONKEY!" Smeary screamed, charging at Dan, who continued to maneuver backwards.  
"I'm not playing by your rules, Drango!" He said, knocking various hanging pans onto Smeary's face. "I've been living off of fast food my whole life!" Smeary grasped his face, having gained a black eye from the pans. Turning towards Dan, he gasped, as Dan tossed a raw chicken right at him, making it lodge on his head. Mumbling, he ran back and forth, just like a beheaded chicken himself.

Dan sighed, pulling off his chef hat.  
"Take THAT cooking." He said with a gasp, as Mary ran into the room. "DAN, did he..." Mary glanced at the(still struggling) Smeary.  
With a gargle, Mary spat on the man. "How do you like THAT recipe? Poured all my heart into it!"  
Turning to Dan, Mary smiled. "Thank you Mr. Mandel. I owe my life to you."  
Dan blushed. "Oh, uh, thanks, I-" before being interrupted by Chris, sprinting into the room.  
"Uh, I set the charges, wasn't fully sure on the timers, we should probably...run...uh, Dan?"  
Behind Dan, Smeary had partially pulled off the chicken stuck to his head. Dan and Mary had not yet noticed.

Dan beamed, getting ready to give another rant-speech. "Yes, this fool has learned he can't stop the fast food revolution."  
"Dan, there's something you-"  
"I know, Chris, it's like they say, revenge is a dish, best served in three courses, that's why I-"  
Smeary stumbled to his feat, completely tearing off the chicken, and grabbing a nearby meat mallet. By now both Chris and Mary had noticed, shouting in vain. "DAN!"  
This FINALLY snapped Dan out of his trance, but it was too late. "What?"  
"That...chicken...was...RAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" Smeary screamed, charging at Dan. "OH NO!" Dan shouted, unable to dodge before- **BONK.** He was hit in the head with the mallet.  
"nOt rAInBoWz!" Dan slurred, before falling over.

Smeary, breathing deeply in a rage, turned towards Chris and Mary. "You, YOU need to get back to WRITING!" pointing to Mary.  
He then turned to Chris. "You, Fatty! You and you're little ass of a friend have made a bloody mess of things!" He said, tackling Chris to the ground, wrestling with him.  
Mary, thinking quick, ran back towards Dan. "Dan! Dan!" she shouted, shaking his head in an attempt to wake him up.  
"CoOoKiNg RaInBows are TASTE!" he slurred, before crawling around mildly. Sighing, Mary turned back towards the wrestling duo.

Speaking of which, despite being the younger man, Chris's years of stuffing his face in front of the TV had not given him to healthiest figure, while Drango was quite active, and was overpowering Chris. Unable to throw Drango off him, he continued to beat Chris into the ground, without much of a struggle from Chris.  
"YOU DONKEY, YOU CAN'T STOP ME!" He screamed in a livid rage, as Chris's nose began to bleed. "I'M FUCKING DRANGO SMEARY!"

Thinking fast, Mary grabbed a large rolling pin from the table. Smeary, too busy beating the shit out of Chris, failed to notice until-  
**THWOMP!**  
Drango rolled to the side, his face bleeding from the blow. Struggling on to get back on his hands, he growled.  
**SMASH**  
Mary smashed a large glass cooking tray over his head, finally knocking the deranged chef out cold.

Dan stumbled to his feet. "Ugh...did we win?"  
Mary, suddenly remembering that time was an issue, went into action.  
"Oh no...DAN, THE EXPLOSIVES! Help me carry your friend, we gotta get out of here!"  
Even heavily concussed, Dan knew to follow her lead. Hoisting the hefty Chris up, the two walked out as quickly as they could.  
Thankfully, Chris has set the timer correctly, and the duo was nearly a block away from the building by the time the explosives went off.

Sigh. "We made...it" Mary panted, exhausted from carrying the large man. Turning back to the building, she frowned. "I hope you burn in hell, Drango Smeary."

"That's the spirit." Dan said, panting between words. "We...uh...where did we park the car?" Dan asked, before suddenly remembering they had left it in the parking lot. Turning his head, It was clear the car had not made it.

Just as he said this, Chris sat up, finally awake. "I'll call a taxi."

* * *

"Rest easy Chris, you've done well today!" Dan shouted to Chris, as he walked into his house.

Walking in the door with a slight smile on his face, Chris was surprised by what he saw. "Elise! Wha...What happened?"  
Elise sat there, looking slightly disheveled, a sling on her arm and and a brace on her chest.  
"Chris!" she shouted, giving him a half hug with her good arm. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it home, the party ran late, and on the way home  
I got hit by some idiot on a bicycle and-"

Chris frowned, hugging her tighter(being careful to avoid touching the damaged areas) "Oh Elise, I...I'm just glad to have you back."  
After having had a moment together, Chris suddenly realized something.  
"So, does this mean you're off work until you're injuries heal?" He asked, with a mix of concern and intrigue in his voice.  
Elise smirked. "Yeah, I already talked to them, I've got time off to recuperate." she said, sensually rubbing Chris's face. "We could spend some quality time together in the meantime."  
Chris smiled back, before yawning. "Ahhhhhh, well, for now, I gotta sleep, I, have had, QUITE a day!" he said mumbling, as he fell asleep nearly the second he hit the bed.

Elise looked at her sleeping husband, before silently tiptoeing out of the room, and pulling out her watch.  
"Eagles Nest, Dancing Shadow, he bought the story."  
"Excellent Dancing Shadow." the voice paused for a moment. "Search teams were sent to the site to collect the bodies. All are guards were KIA. No sign of Kursk, presumed dead."  
"Copy that Eagles Nest, signing off." She sighed, before hobbling back into bed, finally ready to get some sleep. As she did, a thought  
entered her mind.  
_'He's gotta be dead. No way he could have survived that helicopter crash. Yeah, he's gotta be dead.'_  
_'Right?'_  
Then, she peacefully drifted off to sleep. Well, until Chris shook her awake.  
"Oh, I forgot to mention. The...uh...the car kinda blew up."  
"...WHAT?"

* * *

As the taxi pulled up to a local Super 7 hotel(which the apartment board had graciously provided Dan to sleep in until his apartment was repaired) Mary turned to Dan, a slight shake visible in her arms. "Thank you, Dan."  
"Don't mention it. Just doing what's right." Dan said, partially honest, and partially soaking in a rare moment in a praise.  
"I...I'd been in there so long...so many long nights writing I...I was starting to lose hope." Mary sniffled, a tear going down the side of her face. The sound caused Dan to turn towards her, his cold facade melting away. "Everyday, I had to write a new recipe. Everyday, I needed to keep writing, or I didn't get to eat." her tears flowed uncontrollably. "Everyday, for three months. I...I tried to hide messages  
in, but he found them...I was in the dark for a week after that. I...I JUST CAN'T!"

Mary practically fell into Dan's arms. Dan, slightly uncomfortable at the whole situation, thought of something to say.  
"It...uh...It'll be okay?" Dan said, extremely unsure of himself, before suddenly dawning a stern look. "Look, the world is full of jerks.  
That's how this STUPID, ANNOYING, WORLD IS BUILT! BY JERKS!" He screamed, startling Mary out of her sorrow. "And, when the world pushes you, you gotta push back the world. It's a sad, sick world out there, and we can't just let it stomp over us! We gotta tell those jerks we won't stand down and let them ruin everything."  
Mary smiled(although she was mildly concerned for the mans health) "Thanks, I-"

"HEY YOU TWO, QUIT WITH THE STORY AND GET MOVING!" The taxi driver, an angry Russian man, screamed.  
Dan, not one to be treaded on, retorted "YOU SHUT UP YOU JERK." The Russian man, mildly intimidated, sat back down, mumbling "Lousy Yankees."

"I should be going. I need to go find my sisters...I miss them."  
Dan smiled. "You go then. Find your family" he said, with true passion in his voice, as he stepped out of the taxi.  
"Goodbye Dan."

And with that, the taxi speed off, the Russian man giving Dan the finger as he did so.  
For once, Dan didn't care. "You did good Dan, you did good."

Walking towards the lobby, Dan was pleasantly surprised to see his pet cat.  
"MR MUMBLES! How did you find me here?"  
"MEOW"  
Dan beamed. "I KNEW teaching you to follow my scent was a good idea" Dan laughed, petting his joyously. "And to think Chris said I crazy.  
Come on Mr Mumbles, time for us to get some sleep." He said, walking into the lobby and up the stairs.  
"ME-OH ME-OW."  
"I'll feed you tomorrow, everything I had went up in smoke." Dan said as he walked into his temporary home.  
"Merrow!"  
"Ok, maybe we can watch a little TV first." He spoke with a smile, as he closed the door behind him.


	3. The Motel

**I'll be honest guys, I'm a little iffy on this one.**

**The production on this one was hell. To be frank, it was supposed to be finished on December 1st, yet here we are on February 2nd.**

**Plotholes and writing issues were a big problem, and my main beta reader and editor had his internet get shut down in late December(still not back up yet) which made things worse.**

**Yesterday, I was on the verge of cancelling this, because I feared it had fallen into the same trap as "The Janes Must Be Crazy" where I went all grimdark and melodramatic and crap.**

**I don't think it's that bad, most of it is actually still pretty light, but there are one or two scenes that might need revisioning.**

**Well, let's hope this is worth it. Here we go lads.**

* * *

_Yaaaaaaaawwwwn_ "Good morning, Mr Mumbles."

Dan groaned, the urge to continue lying down was strong, but he had to overcome it. One does not revenge from bed.

Struggling to pull himself up, he stopped. The itching was terrible this morning; his entire body prickled with pain.

"Stupid cheap matresses." he mumbled as he walked forward, bits of insulation from the hole in the wall digging into his feet.

When Casa Paradiso had burned down, he had been expecting one of the nice hotels. Fountain in the front, elevators with a bouquet of buttons sprawled about, a pool with a waterslide, especially that last one. Dan had always loved water slides...and pushing jerks down them.

Instead, all Dan had got was a shite motel, a rundown Super 7.

**CRUNCH. **The sound of a cockroach squishing under his foot audiated throughout the room. Dan grimaced. Somehow his room had more cockroaches then his apartment.

"Stupid bugger bugs, don't even pitch in on the rent."

Still, roaches were no big deal to someone like Dan. Filth was his specialty.

Then came the neighbors.

In his apartment, the neighbors had mostly left him alone, barring the occasional cannibal incident, they knew better then to get in his way.

Here...

"QUIT BRINGING HOOKERS INTO MY HOTEL ROOM!"

"I'LL QUIT IT WHEN YEE STOP SMOKING ALL OF THAT THERE JUNK!"

...They were something else, they were.

"Stupid neighbors, stupid itchy face..." Dan paused to scratch his face, before turning to the wall. "AND I COULD HEAR WHAT YOU TWO WERE DOING ALL NIGHT!"

Still, it wasn't quite list worthy. Dan was used to such conditions. Revenging was a time intensive business.  
Until.

"AHH! MY FACE!  
Dan looked at his face in horror. Dozens of spots, small bumpy sores doted his body.

"How the..." Dan asked to himself, before turning back to the bed, a hunch in his mind. Lifting up the matress, he saw it.  
Bedbugs. Dozens of them!

"AHH! GET OFF MY BED YOU RETCHED ARTHROPODS!" Dan screamed, whacking them all with a loose slipper."I'M THE DOMINANT SPECIES IN THIS ROOM!"

One by one, Dan squashed the bedbugs into submission, until all were dead, or had fled the bed.

Dan wiped his(sore covered) head in relief, giving a sigh. "Whew, that was a close...one"

Feeling an odd sensation on his feet, Dan looked down. Hundreds of them. Beating the bed had stirred the entire nest awake.

"RETREAT!" Dan yelled to himself, running in only his underwear towards the nearest phone.

**RING RING RING**

Chris perked up, looking towards the phone. He had been tending to his injured wife the past week, after her unfortunate accident. He had to  
stay home to take care of her. That, and it gave him an excuse to watch TV.

"I'll get it" Chris said, kissing his wife. "I'm surprised it took him this long to call."

Elise chuckled. "I expected him on the first day."

Picking up the phone, Chris heard screaming on the other side.

"CHRIS, THE DAY WE FEARED HAS FINALLY COME! THE INSECT REBELLION HAS STARTED! CALL THE ARMY, CALL THE NAVY, CALL THE-"

CLICK. Chris hung up the phone, walking back to his wife. Elise turned to him, curious. "What did he say?"

"Oh nothing" Chris chuckled, sitting back down with his wife.

* * *

Stomping down the stairway, eyes blazing furiously, Dan approached the counter. A scrawny woman sat there, taking a puff of her cigar. Her skin was pale, her hair greasy, and she gave off a general 'disheveled' vibe.

"EXCUSE ME, ARE YOU AWARE YOU'RE HARBORING THE TROOPS OF THE INSECT REBELLION!?"

Julia blinked owlishly, pulling the cigar out of her mouth and depositing it into an ashtray. "Huh? Roman, I'm either seeing shit again or there's a angry midget in our lobby." Julia continued staring blankly even as Roman Ezaels entered the room.

The man sighed irritably.

"If you're high, the least you could do is stay in your room," he said with a degree of barely contained annoyance in his voice.

Dan shook with anger. "HIGH...I'M NOT HIGH! THE ONLY THING HIGH WILL BE YOUR FACE WHEN I LAUNCH IT OUT OF A CANNON TOWARDS THE BEDBUG CAPITAL!" Dan shouted, pointing at Ezeal and jumping around like an animal. "You, sir, have a motel invested with bedbugs!"

Suddenly calming down, Dan pulled up his sleeve and put on his best 'calm' voice. "They bit me all over my arm, so, if you'd kindly give me a room in a better hotel, I'll leave you be."

Roman blinked. "Sir, I'm only keeping you here because your apartment board payed me to take you and your neighbors in. According to the contract, I can kick you out for disrupting the peace."

"HOW AM I DISTURBING THE PEACE?" Dan shouted, waving his hands all about. "I'm trying to inform the public of the Insectivoidal Militias building within your room...and also the health code violations. Probably more then one.." Dan paused, mentally counting them.

"Well, you are screaming bloody murder in my lobby and ranting about insect overlords...so...please leave before I call security."

"WHAT?!" Dan shouted, shaking with the intensity of a washing machine. "This...THIS IS WAR! I'LL BURN YOU AND YOUR STUPID MOTEL TO THE GROUND! IT'S WAR, I TELL YOU, WAR!" Dan screamed as he ran out the door.

"Grrr...MOTEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLL!"

**DAN VS: THE MOTEL**

* * *

**RING RING RING RING**

Chris was busy fluffing a pillow for his wife when, once again, the phone rang.

"Ugh, sorry, Elise; it's Dan again." he sighed, walking towards the phone. "Hopefully, he's a little more coherent this time."

Elise chuckled. "Dan? Coherent? Please, when hell freezes over."

**BEEP**

The voice crackled over the line. "CHRIS, I've got to destroy the Super 7 hotel."

Chris sighed. "The entire chain or..."

"The one on the corner of Veronica Street and Judith Avenue." Dan replied "They're a blight on the neighborhood. Also, they gave me bed bugs."

"Ew, Dan, don't come over here; I just cleaned the house!" Chris shouted in a strangled whisper, trying not to wake his wife.

Dan chuckled. "You? Clean the house? Come on, that's not the Chris I know."

Chris put his hand to his face. "Elise has been bedridden all week; it's really taking a toll on me. I think the lack of sleep is getting to me." he said, rubbing his face.

"Oh ho ho, don't worry, buddy," Dan laughed, "I know just what'll cheer you up. How about we go to the roof of the hotel, dump a few thousand gallons of cleaning fluid in the air conditioner, and gas out the building. We kill the bedbugs AND get revenge."

"Dan, I will NOT participate in gassing anyone. I've already blown up one chemical plant this month, and that already crossed a line-"

"What was that, Chris?" asked Elise, perking up.

Chris began to sweat profusely. Quickly moving to cover his tracks, he shouted back over his shoulder.

"Oh, uh, nothing, honey."

Turning back and glaring at the phone in his hand, Chris said, "Dan, I can't, and I won't. My wife comes first."

**BEEP**

Dan sighed, mildly annoyed.

"Well, I'm gonna need chains. I hope I can tie them without Chris."

* * *

**CLICK CLACK.**

Dan swung the door open, the noise resonating through the quiet store. Walking past the rows upon rows of explosives, he smiled. So many memories in a single store, truly amazing how versatile explosives could be.

Walking up to the counter, a familiar face greeted amiably. "Mr. Mandel, a pleasure to see you. What can I help you with?"

"Eh, the usual. Worlds full of jerks and I'm out for revenge." Dan mumbled, a slight grunt in his words.

Wally smiled, chuckling, before suddenly frowning with realization. "Oh yeah, got some bad news Mandel. The new laws say I have to run a background check before I sell anyone high explosives" He scowled, looking at the ground. "Damn terrorists."

Dan put up his hand before moving it down. "I just need another one of those 'Executive Brand Chains' of yours." he added with air quotes. "Another jerks been ruining my day."

Wally sighed with relief. He hated going through the hassle of a background check, but the feds wouldn't allow him another slip. "Ah, I just got a fresh shipment of those in. Some Italian guy in a suit bought my entire supply last week and I had to reorder." He spoke as he walked towards the back, leading Dan to follow. "Hey uh, where's your friend...uh..."

"Chris."

"Yeah, him. You're usually with him."

Dan frowned, the thought of being left to handle this alone angered him to the core. "He's...grr...busy." he forced out, trying to hold in his anger.

Wally, knowing Dan well, dropped the topic. "So uh, you want me to get my nephew to bring it out for you?"

"Fine, but make it snappy." Dan spoke with impatience.

"Gotcha." Wally said, before turning towards the back room. "HEY, EVAN, WE GOT A GUY WHO NEEDS SOMETHING CARRIED!"

A nasally voice replied back. "I'll be a minute!"

Wally chuckled. "Ah, nephews, gotta love em." before a thought crossed his mind. "How are ya gonna pay for this anyway?"

"Put it on my tab." Dan replied monotonely, as Wally nodded in reply.

It wouldn't be until after Dan had left Wally would realize his store didn't have a tab system.

* * *

Dan approached the counter, chains in hand. He smiled, Julia was nowhere to be seen.

Wrapping the chains around the desk cupboard handle, he pulled and tightened it, until eventually the chain went taught. With a sigh, Dan relaxed. Now he just had to wait.

Dan did not have to wait long, as the clattering of the door sounded through the room. In walked a short, white man, with a slight twitch in his step and several marks on his face. Looking at Dan, a confused look entered his face. "Man, you work here?"

Dan smirked, this was his chance. "No sir, I'm just a concerned citizen. This motel is swarming with armies of bedbugs. Hundereds of them, small, biting, BLOODsucking bugs." The man began to back away, fearing the raving lunatic in the chains. Dan did not stop. "They crawl onto you as you sleep, and they BITE, sucking out your precious bodily fluids, as their toxic saliva FORCES the skin to swell in the-"

"AAAAHHHHHHHHH!" He ran away, screaming. Whether or not this was to get away from the bugs or Dan, he had left.

"What the hell is going on out here?!" Ezaels asked, storming into the room. His eyes darted around angrily, looking for the source of the screaming, until he finally spotted Dan. "Ugh, you...," he said, running a hand down his face in irritation. "Look, can you LEAVE the motel; you're hurting my business?"

"Hmm..." Dan thought idly, Ezael looking on hopefully. "No, No, I don't think I will."

"Grrrr," he growled furiously, before turning towards the rear corridor and shouting. "CALHOUN, GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!"

Dan laughed mockingly. "Try all you want; these chains are unbreakable. I'm here to stay...or at least until you give into my demands."

Just then, Calhoun walked into the room, a frown on his face. "Boss, uh-"

"Calhoun, throw this rat out. I don't care if you have to throw out the cabinet with him, just-"

"Boss, some guys are here to see you. They want money," Calhoun said in a hurry, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

The colour drained from Ezael's face, his prior anger forgotten. "Oh..uh..I'll just...go...talk to them..then. You deal with the jerk," he said stiffly, walking away with all the pose and form of a man going to his own funeral.

Calhoun's nerves were left forgotten as he chuckled menacingly, cracking his knuckles in preparation. "Heheh, with pleasure, sir."

Dan held firm, his faith in the strength of the chains still strong. "Try all you want, but unless this motel comes equip with a diamond tipped saw, you won't be...able...to..." Dan slowly stopped speaking, as, instead of attempting to break the chains, Calhoun simply grabbed the cabinet door they were fastened to and, in an impressive feat of strength, wrenched the door off its hinges.

"I...uh...oh no.." Dan mumbled out as Calhoun picked up the whole assembly, door and all, and, with a great heave, threw the entire ensemble, Dan included, out the door.

"AHHHH!" Dan yelled as he hit the ground. "I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS!" He shouted, struggling against the chains he realized were still tied around him. "Uh...as soon as I get free of these."

* * *

Here, Elise, I made you some soup." Chris spoke earnestly, handing the bowl to Elise.

"Aw, thanks, honey? Is this chicken spice?" She asked, somewhat coyly.

"Your favorite," beamed Chris proudly, leaning in for a quick kiss on his wife's cheek.

The perfect moment was spoiled, however, by the untimely arrival of the unexpected.

**RING RING RING**

Groaning, Chris reached for his phone.

"Dan, I presume?" Elise asked, voice thick with sarcasm.

Sighing, Chris answered the phone, immediately hearing the pitter-patter of rain in the background. "CHRIS, I JUST SPENT 5 HOURS TIED UP IN AN ALLEYWAY!"

"What, who tied you up?" Chris asked, his eyes moving back and forth rapidly. "I told you to stop doing weird shit for sick hobos."

"No ho ho, of course not silly. It was...well...I did, but it was for a good cause."

"Ugh, Dan, what did I tell you about bringing chain cutters?" Chris repeated, having gone through this more then once.

"ENOUGH ABOUT THE CHAIN CUTTERS, COME AND HELP ME!" Dan screamed, still shivering from the cold.

"No, Dan. My wife was hit was hit by a cyclist, and I am going to stay here and care for her, and that's final."

Dan growled, on the verge of bursting into rage before sighing with a defeatist attitude. "FINE! I'll just have to ask one of my other friends for help. You know, ones that WOULD be willing to help their friend out in his time of need and not leave him to die of hypothermia! I don't need you!"

"In that case, be sure to tell Mr. Mumbles I said hello. Maybe she'll be smart enough to bring chain cutters.!" Chris sniped back before hanging up.

"You think he'll listen?" Chris asked his wife, hopefully.

"Eh, maybe, maybe he breaks in here. Hard to tell with Dan."

Glaring at his phone wet screen forlornly, Dan sighed. He had no other friends; for years, it had been just him and Chris. Who else could he ask? He certainly wasn't going to that two-timing, backstabbing, no-good whore Hortence. The Chefs at the restaurant were off on weekends; he had no clue where Mary was; that hobo had stolen his drawer of spoons, so he was off the table. That only left...

Dan sighed. He was going to have to talk to him again. After 5 years...

"Grr...that jerk." Dan sighed. "Eh, he's the only one who can help." Dan got in his car, grumbling all the way.

If he was going to get to him, he was gonna need to find him.

And he knew how to do so.

* * *

**CLUNK**

A rock struck the roof of the police department, clattering along the top.

Dan groaned. "Come on, HIT, you stupid rocks!"

Dan flung another rock.

**SMASH**

The rock struck an antenna atop the building, the top half flying across the roof.

"YES!" exclaimed Dan happily.

"Now," said Dan, looking down at Mr. Mumbles affectionately, taking off his shirt and stuffing it in a gym bag "-comes the careful art of disguise."

"Meow." Mr Mumbles asked as Dan put on a pair of coke bottle glasses and a 'Vote for Pedro" shirt.

"No, I didn't pack one for you, Mr. Mumbles, I hadn't expected you to get kicked out, too." answered back Dan, his pet looking back at him.

"Me-oooowww."

"Ok, one belly rub, then daddy has to go break into a police station."

* * *

Sitting at his desk, Officer Puladime groaned. Another slow day at the office. Why couldn't anything fun happen these days? Litterbugs and drunk hicks, he was spending more time playing solitaire then actually catching crooks.

Suddenly, another officer walked into the room, coffee and donut in hand. "Uh, boss, the computer's on the fritz again."

Puladime sighed. "Francis, no your flashplayer doesn't need to be updated, there's no Nigerian prince, and if I find out you gave our computer virtual AIDS from your cartoon tentacle porn _again_, I'll have you working on a typewriter for the rest of your life.."

"Wha...how did you..I mean.." he stuttered, caught off guard. "No, no I mean the entire internet relay is offline. Server must be on the fritz."

As Frank stumbled on his words, more officers entered. "Our call lines are out. What's going on?"

Puladime groaned, getting up from his seat. "That's it, I'm taking a break. Francis, call a repair man, and for GOD'S SAKES clear your internet history before he gets here...No, I take it back. Don't touch it. You'll probably only make it worse."

"Can you get donuts?" another officer asked hopefully as Puladime trudged out the door, slamming it behind him.

"...I don't think he's getting donuts." he said with a sigh, disappointment filling the mans face.

Francis turned to walk towards the main room. "I'll call a repair man..."

* * *

"So, can you fix it?"

Dan chuckled. Getting into the police office had been easier then expected. The smartass he was worried about had driven off, and the others had fallen for his disguise hook line and sinker.

"Well, your clippy drive is fried, which prevents blast processing from taking place." he snorted, doing his best impression of a sniveling tech monkey. "The AOL, which is that series of tubes near the back, is burned out. Plus it looks like the lime-wire short-circuited."

Officer Stubuck leaned in to take a closer look. "Is that bad?"

Dan gave a blank expression, adjusting his fake glasses. "Eh, not too much. First I'm going need to manually search the internet history of every computer here to search for the source of the bug."

The sweat poured down Francis's face, as he looked for an opening. "I uh...oh, I almost forgot to save my family photos, I'll be right back!" he stuttered as he quickly ran down the hallway. Dan grinned, quietly laughing to himself. He had a feeling that would get _at least_ ONE of them off his back. Now he just had to get the idiot out.

"So, was that your box of donuts in the break room?" Dan said, trying to stifle his grin. "Sure looked tasty: chocolate with sprinkles."

"What? Donuts!?' Stubuck shouted, slurring his words in excitement. "Why didn't nobody tell me we had donuts?" he shouted as he ran off to look for the pastries.

"Whew," sighed Dan in relief. "Now I can drop the stupid nerd voice and find that son of a bitch."

Pulling up the computer system, a password screen popped up. Dan quickly typed in the password.

"111...uh...1." spoke Dan aloud, typing the appropriate key as he did so. The computer dinged in response. He rolled his eyes, scoffing. "Figures they wouldn't change it."

Now unlocked, Dan quickly skimmed the available information on screen.

"Let's see here...," mumbled Dan to quietly to himself.

Pulling up the local police database(which thankfully was stored offline and didn't require internet), he quickly typed in the name of his old friend.

**CLICK CLICK CLACK. CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK CLACK.**

BING

The mugshot and file details popped up instantly. "There we go." said Dan devilishly, scrolling down the page to view the location.

"Tremont Street Apartments, Avalon, Santa Catalina Island," Dan chuckled. "Looks like somebody's trying to hide from all their problems. Well, I think it's time they pay him a visit." A thought popped into Dan's head as he decided this. "Hope he's not still mad about that whole 'prison thing." After a moment of consideration, he just shrugged.

"Eh, I'm sure he's over it."

His task complete, Dan got up and turned to leave when one of the cops, Francis, poked his head in, his body shaking.

"Oh, uh, my computer isn't quite ready to-"

"Sorry, can't fix it; antenna's busted; call a... antenna man...or something." Dan mumbled, no longer really caring.

Francis sighed with relief, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he spoke under his breath "Whew...dodged a bullet there."

Dan didn't care. He had a ferry to catch.

* * *

"Lousy ferry...wouldn't take my car. What kind of ferry doesn't carry cars!?" griped Dan angrily to himself.

The ferry ride had been long and arduous for Dan, having nearly gotten kicked off for attempting to assault a dockworker...twice. Still, he eventually made it to the island.

Stomping down the street with all the pose of Igor himself, Dan grumbled to himself on and off. He'd been traipsing around this rock in the middle of nowhere for a several hours now, and his patience had long since be exhausted.

Suddenly, an older woman in a tropical shirt walked up to him, her chubby paunch hanging out of it. "Excuse me, sir, could I ask you for directions? I'm trying to get to this lobster restaurant: it's called _The Lobster Trap_, and I have to meet a fr-"

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT STUPID LOBSTER!" shouted Dan, finally snapping. The woman backed away in shock.

"I HAVE BEEN WALKING AROUND THIS DUMP ALL DAY, TRYING TO FIND SOMEBODY! WHY MUST YOU MORONS INSIST ON LIVING ON THIS STUPID ROCK, PAYING TWICE AS MUCH FOR FOOD AND HAVING TO TAKE A STUPID FERRY TO GET ANYWHERE!"

Dan continued to scream, raising his finger in anger as the woman fell onto the ground, attempting to scoot away.

"AND SECOND, WHY ARE YOU EATING LOBSTER? IT'S JUST A GIANT OVERPRICED SEA BUG SLATHERED IN BUTTER, AS IF YOU NEED ANYMORE BUTTER, YOU FLESH BEAST!"

The woman, having gotten off the ground by this point, ran away, screaming for her life.

"Lousy lobster lackies." muttered Dan irritably to himself as he walked deeper into Avalon.

Miraculously, Dan eventually reached the apartment block, a series of loosely connected small white buildings.

"Alright, which one of these urban caves is his?" pondered Dan.

Looking under his arm at the hastily scrawled note he had made earlier using a marker, he was shocked.

"WHAT?"

The marker had smudged and smeared from his sweat, rendering the first two digits unreadable.

"Grrr! Washable Markers...that is ONE toll too many, you're going on the list!" Dan groused out, pulling out his notebook and adding them to the list.

Future revenge planned, Dan focused back on his current problem.

"Ok,so it's either 7732 or..." Dan paused, noticing the building behind him, a old building with peeling paint. A red truck sat outside. "1132. Dan, you are a genius!"

Walking up to the door, Dan knocked loudly.

**KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK**

Whistling to himself happily, Dan waited patiently. Things were finally going his way.

**CLANK, SHIIRT, CLAP**. The sounds of various locks being undone rattled through the door before it opened partially. This was only temporary, however, as less than two seconds later the door slammed shut again.

Incensed, Dan went up to the(now closed) door, pounding on it with his fists. "HEY, I CAME ALL THE WAY TO THIS STUPID ISLAND, THE LEAST YOU COULD DO IS OPEN THE STUPID DO-AHH!"

Dan was cut off as the door swung violently open. A hand reached out suddenly and grabbed Dan by his collar, pulling him in and slamming him against the wall.

Dan blinked, the force of the slam disorienting him. When his vision returned, he was greeted by the sharp glint of a serrated knife engraved with letters, inches from his eyes.

Eyes widening in surprise, Dan looked toward his attacker.

In front of him stood a tall, slightly muscular, man, near Chris' height. His hair was short and black, his face thin. He wore a greyish t-shirt and colorless pants. His expression was not happy.

Dan chuckled awkwardly.

"Hi, Ted."

* * *

For a moment, all was silent. Ted tilted his head at Dan, who continued grinning hopefully.

Then...

**SLAM! CRUNCH!**

Ted pushed Dan harder, a growl emanating from his lips. "I told you...to...NEVER..come back here again after what you did to me."

"Oh come on." Dan chuckled, giving a coy smirk. "I know you were a little upset about me missing your prison release...but why let a little thing like thing get between friends? I know you were a bit grumpy last time, but-"

"Little thing." he asked, staring at Dan intently. "LITTLE THING?!" Ted screamed, throwing Dan off of him and back towards his apartment. Landing on his butt, Dan looked up to see Ted leaning over him, knife still in hand. "Whoah Whoah Ted, calm down. I went through the effort of hacking in the LAPD just to find you, you should be a little more appreciative of-"

WHAM. Ted grabbed Dan, pulling the short man up with one arm, and holding the knife in the other. "OH, IS THAT HOW YOU DID IT LAST TIME? WHEN YOU FUCKED ME DAN! You treacherous cunt! CUNT!" Ted screamed, leaning into Dan. "YOU AND THAT FUCKING WASTER SELL ME OUT TO THE FUCKIN FEDS? AFTER EVERYTHING WE WENT THROUGH? FUCK YOU!"

"Treacherous? TREACHEROUS!" Dan shouted, jumping up and charging at Ted. "I'LL SHOW YOU TREACHEROUS!"

Tackling Ted, Dan attempted to wrestle the knife off of Ted, a struggle between the two quickly emerging.  
"I COME ALL THIS WAY TO SAY HELLO AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME!?" Dan screamed, wrapping his arms around Ted's throat. "I THINK-WHOOAH!" Rolling out from underneath Dan, Ted quickly pulled himself ontop, Dan struggling to hold back the knife. "YOU PIECE OF SHIT! WE WERE FRIENDS! YOU THREW ME TO THE FUCKING DOGS! FUCK YOU!"

"I...DIDN'T...SELL YOU...OUT..." Dan spoke, holding back Ted's arms. "I...don't..."

FLICK. Dan grabbed the knife, tossing it onto the street and away from Ted. "Ok, as much as I want to bash your head in for trying to kill me, I'm legitimately curious what you think happened." Dan paused, noticing Ted's still livid expression. "Oh, and because we're best friends...second best friends...whatever."

Ted growled slightly, but held back his rage, letting out a sigh of exhaustion as he came to his feet. "Tell me, DAN!" He hissed out, resisting the urge to stab Dan right then and there. "If you didn't do anything, please, enlighten me as to WHY THE HELL I WENT TO JAIL, WELL YOU AND FATTY CHRIS GOT TO FUCKING ROAM FREE!"

Dan scoffed "Well I won't say roam free, per say, I'm banned in the state of New Mexico, but I-"

"AND, PER SAY, WHY WERE BOTH OF YOU STRIPPED FROM THE POLICE RECORD. I READ IT AT THE FUCKING TRIAL, THE REPORT SAID I ACTED ALONE."

"Huh..." Dan sighed, thinking to himself. "Well that just happens sometimes, I don't know, police error maybe...wouldn't be the first time."

"Wouldn't be the first...OH ho ho ho ho ho, right, yeah, because police have entire characters pulled from the record left and right. Yeah, fuck you." Ted laughed in hatred, still unsure if it was worth going back inside to kill Dan.

"No, I'm serious." Dan stated, an inquisitive tone in his voice. "I just assumed that the Freemasons were doing it or something."

Ted deadpanned. "...Really...that's your working theory?"

"Hey, I GAVE them a sandwich, WITH HAM." Dan yelled out. "They owe me one."

Ted turned around to go back inside. "Leave before I call the fucking cops."

"WAIT WAIT WAIT." Dan stammered, pulling out his phone. "I can prove it."

"Pssh, yes, call those freemasons of yours and get them to send you some magic beans." Ted turned around "See you in Oz you piece of-"

"Dan, when I say, "Ask Mr Mumbles for Chaincutters" and then hang up, what do you think I mean?" Chris asked with a sigh, Dan smirking at his voice.

"Hold that thought for a moment Chris, someone wants to speak to you." Dan spoke, turning to Ted with a smile.

Growling, Ted yanked the phone out of Dan's hand, listening for a moment.

"Dan?" The voice asked. "This is the last time I'll tell you before I-"

"Hello, fatty Chris, king of the wasters.." Ted spoke with a wicked cackle.

"...Ted?" Chris asked, confusion in his face.

Ted smirked, giving a deep chuckle. "Been a long time, hasn't it? Lost any weight?"

"Well I..." Chris stuttered, rubbing the back of his head. "I...I thought you stopped talking to Dan after you got out of prison?"

"Funny, that's exactly what I wanted to ask you about." Ted adjusted his voice, any humor in his tone vanishing. "Listen here Chris, and-"

"Chris, are you talking to Dan?" Elise piped in from the other room, still on the couch. Chris stuttered out "Uh, no, no honey, just an old friend." before turning his attention back to the phone.

"LISTEN. CAREFULLY." Ted hissed out, before taking a deep breath. "You and me both know you're a shit liar, so give me a straight answer and I'll make this quick and painless, you got that?"

"Well I-"

"WHEN WE BROKE INTO THAT WAREHOUSE AND THEY FOUND THE EVIDENCE, DID DAN SCREW ME OVER."

"What? I-"

"DID. HE. SCREW. ME. OVER!" Ted bellowed, Chris's panic growing with every second.

"No, I uh...I don't think so...uh, I stayed away from him for a few weeks after that, I didn't wanna upset Elise, my uh, girlfriend..." Chris paused, his voice getting increasingly eratic. "Dan was out looking for a mermaid that stole his fishing rod during the trial, and I didn't want Elise to...Look I swear that's all I-"

"Chris, what was that?" Elise asked, having overheard part of the conversation. "What didn't you want to upset me with?"

"Uh, nothing honey." Chris hung up the phone, going back to his wife.

Starring in confusion at the phone, Ted froze for a moment. Dan, clearly moreso impatient then anything else, tapping his feet in boredom, spoke up first. "Ok, there, you talked to him. I need your help with-"

"Internet." Ted spoke suddenly, light suddenly filling his eyes.

"What?" Dan asked in confusion, as Ted typed away on the small phone. "Ted, I'm not sure now is the time to browse online porn, we kind of have a-"

"NO YOU IGNORANT...ugh." Ted mumbled, pulling up the police database. "Dan...Mandel..." he mumbled under his breath, until finally, the page popped up.

**LAPD CRIMINAL DATABASE**

**DAN MANDEL**

**B: 12/6/80**

**R: ROOM 513, CASA PARADISO.**

**KNOWN ALIAS: The Jerkinator, Mad Midge, Lil Danny Sub.**

**CRIMINAL RECORD: **

**7/7/1997: Inciting a riot at an anarchist club. Let off on a warning due to extreme circumstances and being a minor.**

**5/4/1999: Found to be in possession of a stolen vehicle. Served 2 months, not convicted as thief**** due to lack of evidence.**

**31/12/1999: Illegal usage of fireworks. Fined 100 dollars.**

**9/11/2001: Noise Violations, 50 dollar fine.**

**1/18/2004: Found to be illegally distributing posters against Mayor Simeon with accomplice Ted Dunbar. Fined 2000 dollars.**

**9/9/2009: Vandalized wedding. Two weeks house arrest.**

**10/31/2012: Attempted to assault child. Let out on bail, Chris Pearson found innocent of all charges, Dan out on insanity plea. Served one week in a facility.**

**3/3/2013: Missed court date for traffic accident, served 7 months. Let out on good beheavior and signs of illness(insisted he wasn't Dan)**

**2/1/2016: Vandalized wedding. Served two weeks of house arrest.**

**6/12/2016: 6 weeks in prison for aggravated assault. Police found to have used excess force.**

**3/17/2017: Trespassed at low level government facility. Served 3 weeks anger management.**

**8/3/2017: Assault. Thrown out due to other combatant being found guilty of starting fight.**

**11/21/2017: Suspected of terrorism, but acquitted after heavy evidence of jury tampering and a lack of DNA evidence. Served 2 weeks for spoiling a jury.**

**Current Status: Free. **

**Not to be given firearms or hunting knives due to history of anger. Not to be sold weed. Ineligible for jury duty.**

Ted's jaw hung open. He looked through the list again...and then two more times. Another idea coming to him, he quickly pulled up Chris's file.

**LAPD CRIMINAL DATABASE**

**CHRIS PEARSON**

**B: 2/1/81**

**R: 888 Scarlett Street.**

**KNOWN ALIAS: None**

**CRIMINAL RECORD:**

**30/3/2004: Stole a hotdog. Let off on a warning**

**12/27/2012: Indecent Exposure**

**2/8/2013: Accused of breaking and entering cabin. Let off with a warning after it was revealed to be likely an accident.**

"Well I'll be damned. he said quietly, handing the phone back to Dan, a sheepish look on his face. "I...suppose I should apologize for...attacking you...I just..."

"Yes yes you thought I betrayed you I get it. I need your help."

"I...I need a drink..." Ted stuttered, pulling a vial of alcohol out of his pocket.

GULP GULP GULP.

A trace of liquor hung on his lips as he sighed. "I'm on parole."

"We don't need to violate your parole, buddy." Dan said playfully, Ted sighing in discomfort. "We just need to teach a certain motel a lesson.

Sigh..."Which one?"

"Super 7, across from the old cafe, corner of Ron and Judy. They gave me bedbugs."

Ted looked back at his apartment, then back at Dan, before sighing. "Fine...I guess I owe you one for trying to kill you. But you better not be screwing me"

"Excellent." Dan spoke with pride, marching forth before suddenly stopping. "Now, can you lend me 50 dollars for the ferry ride back? I...I'm broke."

Ted groaned. This was certainly Dan alright.

* * *

"I swear Elise, It wasn't Dan."

Elise smirked. She wasn't made, but watching her husband try to deny it...she couldn't help, but giggle at bit. He was like a large child. "Well I'd like to believe you honey, but...you're friend circle isn't exactly huge."

"It was...uh...Ted."

Elise's blood ran cold. "Who?"

"You know, Dan's old friend Ted, the one who was in prison for a bit. He was asking about prison and if we had screwed him over. He seemed a bit-"

"Wow, exciting, hey Chris, can you fetch me some soup, I'm...uh..starving!" Elise spoke quickly, attempting to redirect the conversation as fast as possible.

Chris stuttered for a moment, before giving a goofy smile. "Alright, I'll be back in 20 minutes." before walking out the door.

Elise sighed with relief. She'd need to look up his address in case he started asking too many questions...although she wasn't exactly in shovel using condition.

* * *

After a long and incredible awkward ferry ride, during which neither of the duo attempted to talk to eachother, they finally reached Long Beach Harbor.

Stepping off the ferry, the two of them looked eye to eye for the first time in over an hour. Dan appeared slightly grumpy from the long boat ride, while Ted appeared far more calm then before, taking a puff of his cigar as he walked forward.

"Where's your car?" Ted asked monotonely.

Dan turned to the car, walking into it, as Ted chuckled. "You're still driving the clunker? Man, would have thought she'd have died years ago."

"She's not a CLUNKER, she's a 1985 Plymouth Horizon" Dan growled, fastened his seat belt as Ted stepped into the car.

"Like I said, a clunker."

Dan grumbled under his breath, before starting the car and beginning the drive back to the motel.

"So." Dan started, unease still in the air. "How was prison?"

Ted leaned over to the left hand window. "See for yourself."

Slowing Dan to look for himself, Dan squinted, the cranes at the dockyard and the glow of the sunset obstructing his view. "What am I looking...for..."

After a moment of adjusting to the light, Dan spotted it. Just over the dockyards, the walls of the prison were visible.

"Terminal Island Federial Correctional Institute. Spent two years in there." He sighed, the memories coming back. "Not a nice place. I mostly laid low, stayed out of the big guys way, stayed well behaved."

Suddenly filled with recognition, Dan beamed. "Oh yeah! I spent a few months there a couple years back."

Ted turned to Dan instantly, shock and confusion in his face. "Oh...yeah...I almost forgot?" He rubbed the back of his head, remembering having glanced at it on the list.

"Some jerk tried to steal my identity." Dan stated, listing his points on one hand. "I sent him to prison, he wanted revenge and put a telemarketer in my brain." Dan continued, the confusion on Ted's face growing. "And I got sent to prison for assaulting him in a police station"

Ted, jaw dropped, stuttered for a moment. "Wha...but I...Ok, FIRST OFF, why would someone steal your identity?" Ted, just as Dan had, started listing the points on his hand. "You have no assets, no wealth, no family, no friends..." realization suddenly dawned on him. "Wait actually that kinda makes sense. You'd be an easy target."

Dan nodded. "That's what he said! Obviously I'm a very valuble person!"

Ted sighed, putting his face in his hands.

"Eh, enough about that. Since we're no longer trying to kill eachother, you may as well tell me what's been going on the outside since we parted ways." Ted paused, talking a puff of his cigar. "How's Chris doing? Still a useful idiot as always?"

"What? Chris isn't an...well he...ok he's a little...ok yeah, he's an idiot." Dan deadpanned, accepting it. "But he's my friend. He's always  
been there for me."

Ted laughed. "Yeah, ever since you scalped that tyranical camp fuck!" he continued laughing for a few seconds, before taking another puff. "I still remember when you first told me that story over a couple drinks back in...1997, I think? Shit, that must have been around the time we first met." Ted paused for a moment. "Man I feel old."

"You and me both!" Dan added, also chuckling with memories of the good old days. "Man, we were the shit back then. Fighting all the worlds jerks one protest at a time. Still remember the look on that jerk Arthur's face when we booted him out of his own anarchy club. I was holding a bat, you had a knife, that weird giant Russian woman had a machete. Good times."

Sighing deeply, Ted turned back to Dan. "Yeah, that was something." pausing to take a puff, he continued. "Eh, things changed after I got out. I started to realize the futility of it all."

Dan groaned, knowing what was coming.

"A couple people like us can't change the world...not ethnically, anyway." Ted took another hit of his cigar, before breaking into a coughing fit. "And...I dunno, I kinda want to...settle down, meet a nice girl, start a family, you know?"

The second Ted stopped, Dan butted in. "Families are the biggest mooch of society to date. It's the crowbar they use to keep you in line. They say 'It'll disrupt the family structure' and next thing you know they have you in chains, working until you eventually grow too old to be useful and they send you to the deathcamps we call retirement homes. Please, you're starting to sound like Chris on his wedding day."

Gasping, Ted turned to Dan. "Chris is getting married? Wow, I really have been gone a long time. Who's the gal so unlucky?"

"Elise. Happened right after you got sent off" Dan spoke with disdain.

"Elise, Elise..." Ted mumbled, pondering the name until it suddenly clicked. "The redhead? Man that girl had a nice ass, why can't I be that lucky?"

Dan growled. "It's not all it's cracked up to be."

Ted groaned, leaning onto the HUD. "Come on, I know you've always wanted a girlfriend, you found anyone yet?"

"NO!" Dan butted in, partially cutting off Ted. "They're nothing, but filthy cheating money grubbing little-"

"What happened?" Ted asked, having a feeling what that reaction indicated.

"...I don't wanna talk about it." Dan grumbled, leaning his face down.

Ted chuckled "Ah, so was she hot or did she run off with a-"

"I SAID I DON'T WANNA TALK ABOUT IT!" Dan screamed, turning to Ted. "IF YOU CONTINUE TO PESTER ME, THE POLICE WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO IDENTIFY YOUR REMAINS, AS I SLOWLY ROAST THEM OVER MY ENGINE BLOCK, UNTIL THEY ARE NOTHING, BUT FINE ASHES!"

Ted's eyes darted back and forth between Dan and the steering wheel. "JESUS CHRIST THE FUCKING WHEEL!" quickly leaning over to grab it from Dan as he attempted to steady them.

"LET GO OF MY CAR YOU HOOSEGOW DWELLER!" Dan continued screaming, as Ted held him back, struggling to steer them steady. "I'LL SEND YOU BACK TO THE-"

SCREECH

The breaks of the car slammed down, the tires screeching from the friction. Dan, startled by the sudden stop, paused from his rant, noticing  
the shadow over him. Turning to his left, Dan was startled. Ted leaned over him, knife in hand and rage in his eyes.

"Listen here you little PRICK!" Ted growled, grabbing Dan tightly. "I've spent TWO AND A HALF YEARS in prison, because...I don't even know why!"

Dan chuckled, slightly wheezy from the tight throat grasp. "Well, because of arson si-"

"I KNOW WHY I WENT TO PRISON, WHAT I DON'T KNOW IS WHY THE FUCK THE POLICE SOMEHOW FORGOT YOU WERE THERE!" Ted screeched through his gritted  
teeth, pushing harder onto Dan's windpipe. "But what I DO know, is that I'm not going back in there, BECAUSE OF A DAMN TRAFFIC VIOLATION THAT YOU CAUSED!"

Dan gave an uneasy grin. He had known Ted long enough that he wasn't one to be fucked with. Of course, Ted knew the same about him. "Alright Ted alright, you drive, I gotta plan our little revenge scheme." He said with a sigh, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed.

"Oh no no no!" Ted spoke with energy in his voice. "I'm the one planning this, like we agreed."

"Oh come on!" Dan yelped, throwing his arms right back up. "I always plan revenge."

"That's because, for the last decade it's just been you and the waster." He hissed, keeping his eyes on the road. "I used to plan things sometimes too, remember that, Dan?"

"Yeah yeah." Dan replied nonchalantly. "So what exactly is your plan here? Burn them to the ground?"

"No no no no no no no no, nothing that's violating my parole, well, nothing major I suppose." Ted put a finger to his chin, pondering the thought. "We'll have to dig up some dirt on them. It's a sleazy motel, there's got to be a law or two they're breaking. You said there were bedbugs?"

"Not just bedbugs, the entire Insect Revolution in training!" Dan shouted in dismay.

"Should be good enough to get em fined atleast, but who knows what else is there? Owner could be taking drugs, staircase could be out of code, structural problems, could be anything really." Ted listed, Dan sighing.

"Oh, and then what do we do?" Dan replied, dismissing the thought. "Prance around the street shouting it to the heavens?"

"No, we issue an anonymous tip, send in our evidence, sit back with a cold beer, and watch the fireforks." Ted said, taking a moment to puff his cigar, before turning the car onto the next road. "First thing I'm gonna need is a taperecorder. I assume he knows your face and that your trouble, so I'll have to handle the gate stuff, but nobody can break and enter quite like you. You get to my room, we get some evidence, do that tip thing, and we're done. I go home, and my parole officer never knows a thing."

"Hmm..." Dan thought outloud, Ted visibly groaning at the noise. "...Ok fine. But I call dibs on the bed, you'll have to take couch."

"Deal." Ted said hurridly, knowing that fighting Dan on the small things was a fools game. "Besides, we're there."

* * *

"Where're you heading honey?" inquired Elise curiously, a smirk on her face. "Certainly not to go help Dan, right?"

"No, actually, "respond Chris sheepishly, "I think Dan might have actually quit it this time. He hasn't called me in over 4 hours."

Slipping on his shoes, he continued, "I'm just going out to grab you some ginger ale at the Mac's. I'll be back in half an hour."

Elise rose an eyebrow at Chris who froze before sighing. "Fine, I'm also grabbing a burger. But I swear on my aunt's grave that I won't go  
help Dan."

"Thanks, honey." Elise said, smiling brilliantly before a thought came to her. "Wait...wasn't your aunt committed to an insane asylum?"

Chris sighed. "We did eventually. After she snapped the first time, my parents kept her chained in the basement for a while living off the odd  
bucket of discarded fishheads. The screaming was horrible, but when they wanted to install a root beer cellar, the locked her in my old bedroom  
and padded the walls so she couldn't gauge out anymore eyes. With all the scrawled ravings she drew on the walls, it's a miracle they managed to  
sell the place. We got lucky and some Texan lawyer bought it off us. When we got settled in again at out new place, we had to have her  
committed. Never heard from her again until she died last year."

Elise had a blank stare on her face. All her years of spy training hadn't prepared her for...THAT. "Well...you certainly have an interesting  
family life..."

"Yeah..." Chris said, his eyes briefly going blank as he stared off into space. "I'll be back soon."

CLACK.

As the door slammed shut, Elise quickly checked her surroundings before pulling out her watch, being careful to avoid stressing her casted leg.

"Agent Dancing Shadow, calling in, wounded bird protocol. Meat Man has left the house."

After a brief moment of silence, a yawn was heard over the speaker. "Ugh, Dancing Shadow, do you know what time it is in Monte Carlo?"

"3 AM," answered back Elise coldly, practically on autopilot. "I thought you were planning a counter-terrorist operation in Iraq?"

Eagles Nest went quiet at this prod. "Uh...yes...good work, Dancing Shadow; that's a test complete. Glad to see your injury hasn't hindered your skills."

Elise, ignoring the obvious change of subject by her boss, quickly moved to the topic at hand. "I assume you've gathered up some info on  
the Kursk case?"

"Ah yes, we had agents picking through what was left of the compound." Eagles Nest paused, the sound of him shuffling resonating. "Unfortunately,  
the main computer was purged shortly before Special Operations could take the site. We've been shifting through surviving paper documents and  
interrogating surviving workers. We've got a full team working Melody at a prison in Victorville. She hasn't cracked yet, but we're getting there."

A series of beeps came through the watch before Eagles Nest started speaking. "With the computers purged, we had to figure out who was  
running things and work from there. Here's what we've found."

Elise's holowatch it up as a video file was streamed to it, flickering as it played. She had to tear her eyes away from the file as Eagle Nest continued.

"We've found the higher ups at Azinder Chemical Combine. There appears to be only five of them. *Five* mere people who know the extent of the operation being undertaken at that compound."

The first image appeared on Elise's watch: a tall, buzzcut man with a camo uniform on.

"Trent Alcatraz. Real name, Trent Zorn. Known as the Butcher of Bonthe." Footage of Trent torching a building with a flamethrower appeared on Elise's screen. "Wanted in three African nations for various crimes against humanity. Worked as head of Azinder's Private Guard and leader of overseas operations. Found dozens of fake passports tied to him. Status: deceased. We found the body near the burnt out remains of a lab. Nice work Dancing Shadow."

Elise smiled. Killing a psychopath like Trent brought a smile to her face.

The next image appeared: a tall man with longer hair and a large vest.

"Skyler Matilda. No known alias. Operated the fleet of trucks Azinder used to carry the product." A series of images of KAMAZ trucks appeared on the screen. "We couldn't tie any deaths to him, seems he kept his head down. Wife, two kids: we've given them a sob story. Status: deceased. Shot dead in the rear parking lot."

"I DO recall shooting a man of that description." Elise noted thoughtfully before turning her attention back to the display. A middle aged woman with thick square glasses and a blue shirt appeared.

"Melody Morgen. Real name: unknown. Likely an experienced money handler: appears to be the primary accountant who was in charge of laundering and book clearing. She may have also had a hand in the computer banks of the site, which were purged prior to our Special Forces arriving."

Eagles Nest paused before a picture of a large prison appeared on screen. "We have her alive and secured in FCI Victorville: possible transfer to an in house facility in progress."

Next, a tall man with sleek black hair and a suit. Elise paused.

"Azinder's bodyguard?"

Eagles Nest replied promptly. "Yes, Thomas Castle. Real name: Thomas Vega." Various pictures of dead bodies appeared on screen. "Suspected to be ex-mafia, possible ties to the Russians. Loosely connected to dozens of suspicious deaths, real top of the line killer. Footage of the raid indicates he was Azinder's bodyguard."

A picture of Thomas's corpse appeared. "One of our sniper's took care of him."

Finally, a picture of a tall, slightly tanned man in a black suit appeared. The leader himself:

"Azinder Kursk. Real name: unknown. Seems to have appeared out of thin air. His official background is full of holes. Head of Azinder Chemical Combine Limited since it's separation from DuPont in 2010. Our sources have connected his company to dozens of arms dealers in Africa and the Middle-east, including possible buyers in Syria, Yemen, Somalia, and Seirra Leone. Possible mob ties as well, but the info on that is storied in Russia, it could be a while before we get it."

The next picture made Elise grimace. It was the very helicopter she had ridden in a week prior. The helicopter that had broke her legs. "Status: Unknown. We suspect he could have easily died from exposure, but our search teams haven't recovered the body. It's unclear how he  
escaped the cuffs."

Elise growled. The thought that she had let that...monster...escape made her stomach turn. And here she was, broken and helpless, unable to catch the bastard.

"Sir, I promise the *second* I'm able to, I'll be ready to shut down what's left of Azinder's operation."

Eagles Nest chuckled. "No need, Dancing Shadow. We've gotten his local workers all in lock up, and we have Agent Silver Bullet in Africa shutting down the buyers and trafficers he was associated with. I believe you remember Silver Bullet from the Libya and Syria Ops?"

Giving a smile, Elise exhaled. Agent Silver Bullet was one of a kind. "I do, Sir."

"Plus, we may need you right here." The faint sound of paper rustling came through the speaker. "You recall the explosion at FreezerBurn Cooking Company last week that killed TV chef Drango Smeary?"

Elise nodded, an intrigued tone entered her voice. "Yeah, I DO recall seeing that on the news. Do you suspect terrorism?"

"We do, but our sources indicate there may be a much bigger problem at work." A screen display popped up showing a pair of middle aged Britishmen. "We received a bugged phone call that may indicate a possible conspiracy to cripple the fast food industry."

An X appeared over Smeary's face as the picture faded from the screen, zooming in on the other man. "Smeary was killed in the blast last week,but his associate, Jamie Oligarch, is still in action. If the intel is good and the conspiracy is real, it's likely Jamie is panicking and could do something drastic."

Elise gasped, looking at the info display, "I knew those late time cooking shows were nothing but trouble," recalling all the long nights  
Chris had spent watching them.

"We have a mole in the area who should be able to confirm the reports; though, we might need your assistance. We have something that might aid your recovery"

"Oh?" Elise asked, hoping to get out of her cast as soon as possible(she felt so...useless)

A hologram of a vial appeared on the watch. "It's an experimental cell acceleration serum. It could lower your remaining recovery time from months to around a week."

"Excellent." Elise said with a smile, before suddenly frowning. "Any side effects?"

"Not unless you live to be 80."

Elise shrugged. Not likely with her career. "Rodger that, Dancing Shadow out."

BEEP.

* * *

**CHING CHONG**

The bell on the door rang, as Ted entered into the motel.

Just as Dan had told him, the lobby reeked of cigars and mildew. The ugly beige carpet was splattered with stains, and the computer on the desk looked like it was as old as him.

The next thing Ted noticed was the man at the desk. Dan had told him to expect a discheleved woman(well, technically Dan had described her as a 'smelly wench', but..) and this wasn't a woman. Or...atleast he didn't THINK it was a woman, these days it was hard to tell.

The man at the desk was a shorter, fatter man. The bags under his eyes were the size of pontoons. Several bruises and scratches lined his arms, his left eye was black. What had happened to him?

Sighing, Ted walked up to the desk. The identity of the desk keeper wasn't a huge concern, not yet atleast.

"Hello, I'd like to rent a room for the night."

As Ted spoke, the light in the man's eyes seemed to light up, as if it was the first time he had tasted hope in a while. He leaned over the desk, eager to shake hands. "Ah yes, welcome to Super 7!" he spoke as he shook. "How long will you be staying?"

Ted pulled some cash out of his pocket, placing it on the desk. "Just the night."

Roman groaned, just for a second, before resuming his faux smile and leaning down to grab the key. "Room D-1132. Thank you for choosing Super 7 Motels, where our motto is "Please, tell ALL your friends." "

Ted waved the man off, turning towards the exit. "I will."

He wasn't going to.

As he left, a group of men in suits walked in behind him, mumuring to themselves.

CHING CHONG

Walking outside and turning towards the stairwell, Ted was startled.

In front of him stood a woman, dressed in a open green coat, short skirt, and pink stockings.

Ted quickly walked past, mumbling "Not Interested" behind him as he walked.

The woman shrugged, before walking around the corner.

Ted sighed, inserting the key into the door with a clank, he looked back and forth, waving to signal him forth.

"Finally, took you long enough." Dan yelled, coming out from behind a Dumpster and quickly climbing the staircase.

"SHHHHH!" Ted hissed through his teeth, furious at Dan's foolishness. "You're not supposed to be here, remember?"

Dan scoffed. "Oh please, those stingy sticks couldn't hear a thing through the sound of their insect overlords issueing commands via the great insect network!"

Ted deadpanned, shoving Dan into the motel room. "SHUT IT!"

Stumbling, Dan turned around, his hands on his hips. "My mouth or the door?"

SLAM

Ted slammed the door shut, turning back to Dan. "Both you blabber mouth, do you want that roid hulk to snap your neck."

"No...maybe?...no." Dan sighed, turning back to get a good look at the room. "Ugh, look at this place."

The room was small, bland concrete flooring. A single, crumbling bed; a small chair; and a TV that appeared to have been made in the 1950s.

"Well it'll have to do. Revengingness comes before comfort...ing...ness...whatever." Dan spoke without care in his voice, plotting down on the couch. "We may as well relax while we're here. This is actually nicer then the room I had."

"Jesus your room must have been shite." Ted mumbled, pacing back and forth as Dan dug through the couch cushions. "Second, Dan, I think there's a prostitute outside."

Dan paused his search, raising an eyebrow at Ted. "Firstly, they're escorts. Second, now is not the time to waste hard earned revenge funds on-"

"What, NO!?" Ted shouted, attempting to get Dan off the topic. "I don't wanna...well maybe but...I was THINKING that maybe she might know something. If there's prostitutes wandering around who KNOWS what else is going on or how high it goes."

"All the way up to their Arthropod Emperor, I presume." Dan mumbled, groaning loader as he tore the chair cushion off. "Where is that STUPID remote?"

Ted buried his hands in his face. "Oh for the love of...IT'S A CRT FROM THE FUCKING 50'S, IT DOESN'T HAVE A REMOTE!"

"I don't CARE how many Community Resource Teams it runs OR how old it is. It should have a remote!"

"THEY DIDN'T HAVE THE...Oh my god I am so done with this." Groaning, Ted fell back onto the bed, defeat in his voice. "Sometimes I wonder why we were ever friends."

Dan laughed coyley, waving his hand. "Oh come on, we were the kings of revenge, and look at us now! Back on top, the 'ole duo is back together!"

"No Dan, we are not." Ted spoke coldly, not even turning to Dan. "This doesn't change anything."

Dan twitched, turning to Ted with a frown on his face. "Ted...what do you mean?"

Ted sighed. "This is...more of a one time thing. I still want to go back to a normal life, get a house,a wife...I don't wanna go back to running around, torching buildings and spraying statues. Things have changed, I've changed...I dunno, I just-"

"I CAN'T believe what I am hearing." Dan shouted in bewilderment, his interest in the TV having been squelched. "You'd rather go to some snooty frooty job, obey a LITERAL demon boss, and slave your life away? You could fight to good fight and show the world you care!"

"I do care, and I will help you finish this, I just..." Ted sighed. "I'm just not going all the way."

"Fine." Dan growled, plopping back on the couch. "I suppose you're still better then those sheep by a few miles. A good general never forgets."

Yawning, Dan checked by his side, once again remembering he didn't have a remote. "Stupid teamwork TVs. I bet that greedy jerk Ezaels has TV's with remotes, sitting on his fancy chair and laughing at us peasants. WE HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE BUT OUR CHAINS!"

As Dan broke into a rant, Ted couldn't help, but ponder what was going on with Ezaels. The bruises, the black eye, the men in suits.

* * *

"So, where...is...the...money, Mr. Ezaels?"

Tied to his chair, Roman glanced up at his assailant, a tall, bald man dressed in a black suit, pipe in hand. Nearby, another man in a black  
suit sat, watching him.

Roman squirmed, the ropes tying him to the chair too tight to break. He looked up at the man in the chair, fear in his eyes.

"Look, Ray, I swear, I'll get you and your boss the money," he said desperately, eyeing the lead pipe carried by his assailant fearfully. The thought of that pipe striking him sent shivers through his body.

"I've been storing that coke for you, letting Phil sell the it here, just like you asked. I-I just need a little more time; I've got to- AGH!"

CRUNCH!

The pipe struck his ribcage; the sound of it breaking radiated through the room. Roman's screamed in agony as the man wound up for another swing.

"No." Ray spoke, gesturing for the goon to stop.

Roman shook violently, shivering with fear and pain as Ray approached. "I-I've got some of it, I swear," sputtered Roman desperately, trying to avoid slipping into unconsciousness from the pain. "A-And I've got some hookers on-site, they'll definitely attract customers! Ray, I jus-"

"Roman, Roman, Roman." interrupted Ray tauntingly, reaching into his suit. "You and your junkie girl owe Mr. Burelli a lot of money." The sound  
of his steps echoed as he slowly walked closer. Roman gasped as Ray pulled out what looked like a short rod from his coat.

A cattle prod.

"And this is the last time he'll ASK!"

ZING

The high pitched sound of the device powering up filled the room as Ray leaned in towards the restrained Roman, holding the device close to his throat.

"So...Roman...what are you gonna have for us tomorrow morning?" Ray hissed, grinning in sick pleasure as he watched the man squirm.

Roman looked up at him, desperation in his eyes. "I'll have your money, I SWEAR. I-I just need to-AAAGGGGGHHH!"

Roman screamed in pain as the cattle prod shocked him, his body seizing as the device seared his flesh.

"Oh, you WILL get us our money, Roman, one way or another," spoke Ray calmly as he paced."We prefer cash of course, but we have...'other'  
methods of getting our moneys worth should they prove necessary." Ray spared a glace at Roman's broken body, chuckling lightly at the man's  
gasped sobbing. "You've probably got a few grand worth with those kidneys of yours. Course, we'd have to find a buyer, but, eh...moneys money."

Roman shook as Ray leaned back into him "Then, there's that broad of your's, Julia. Girl like her ain't worth a dime on the organs, but...I'm  
SURE there's a man who would LOVE to have her, for the right price of course."

Roman gasped, hatred filling his eyes. "You wouldn't da-AAARRRRGGGGH!"

The cattle prod struck his arm, scorching the skin beneath it as Ray then held it for several moments. Lifting it, Ray watched Roman struggle  
to catch his breath as his body continued to shake and spasm.

Sneering, Ray grabbed Roman by his hair and forced him to look at him . "Or, perhaps we could cut a deal. The boss could use a new front, and those ladies you've got running around could earn us a pretty penny."

Leaning in, Ray's soulless eyes burned into Roman's very being. "Give us the building and the harlots, and leave California, and you and your girl can live another day. Sound like a deal my pissed soaked compadre?"

Roman stared aghast. "But I...I can't just-ARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Roman screeched, having been struck once more. "FINE! FINE! TAKE IT; TAKE IT ALL! YOU'LL NEVER SEE US AGAIN! JUST PLEASE STOP!"

Ray laughed, the pupils in Roman's eyes shrinking in fear. "You have...12 hours, Mr Ezeals. And don't you think about running off without leaving us our payment or...," he gestured to his throat, doing a slitting motion with his hands.

Not bothering to wait for a response, Ray turned away.

"Jimmy, get this son of a bitch out of here. I don't want his piss soaked pants ruining my suit."

His business complete, Ray made his way to the door, leaving the thoroughly terrified Roman behind with his henchman.

* * *

Ted shrugged. "You can never tell with bastards like him. One minute they care, the next all they can think about...is...Dan?" Ted turned  
noticing the odd quiet. Dan was on the couch, sleeping and snoozing. He had only turned away for a brief moment.

"Damn it." Ted sighed, resigning himself to the quiet. It gave him a chance to think.

Something wasn't right here. Prostitutes lurked around every corner, not unusual for a shady motel, but it seemed especially prevalent. The odd  
bruises and marks on Roman he had seen earlier, combined with the men in suits. Some sort of gang?

Ted pondered the thought for quite a while, until, with a yawn, he noticed the time. Turning to the bed, he grinned. At the very least, he  
wasn't going to have to sleep on the couch tonight.

* * *

"TAKE THAT YOU STUPID TV!"

Blink.

Ted opened his eyes, the harsh flicking light of the motels ceiling irrating them as he awoke. An intense itching sensation presented itself  
immediately.

After a brief moment pondering where the hell he was, he remembered. Dan, the motel, the ferry...

Ted chuckled. Life has a way of taking you out of your comfort zone.

Suddenly, Ted noticed the loud smashing sound nearby. Leaning over to view what was going on nearby, Ted was startled awake by what he saw.

The TV? In pieces. The cause? Dan, who had somehow managed to find a wrench, and was currently gutting the back of the TV.

Ted stood up for a moment, prepared to start yelling...before slouching back down, and reaching for his vodka flask. He had dealt with enough of Dan's shit for one lifetime. To his disappointment, the flash was dry. "Crap." he mumbled, checking the counters for any coffee.

"YOU AND YOUR BREATHERN WILL RUE THE DAY YOU MADE ME MISS MY STORIES!" Dan screeched out, taking another swing at what was left of the television.

Ted groaned, slamming the drawers shut in frustration. Not a bit of coffee in the house. "Shit."

Padding his pants, Ted sighed in defeat. To make a bad situation worse, he was out of cigars. Leaning back into the counter, within a split second, it came to him.

_The woman from yesterday. _He thought to himself, quickly walking towards the door. He paused briefly, pondering whether to mention this to Dan, before walking off anyway. Not worth it.

Strolling down the stairs with a saddening stomp in his step, Ted yawned. The crisp morning air whistled past his face, making his hairs stand on end. He wasn't going to get his coffee, but he might just get his cigar.

CHING CHONG

The door to the main lobby swung open. Ted hadn't been sure who to expect, but it certainely wasn't this man.  
Instead of the scruffy guy Ted had seen the prior evening, or the pale woman Dan had described. This man was 6 feet of muscle, and 100% intimidating.

Ted gave a slight gulp. The sight of the large man gave him brief flashbacks to the more...unpleasent, elements of prison life.

Not going to quit after having already walked in(that would be awkward), Ted walked up to the desk, clearing his throat.

"Eh hem." he mumbled, prompting the tall man to look up from his paper. "You wouldn't happen to have a cigar, would ya?"

The man, who only now leaned over in such a way Ted could see his nametag: Calhoun, darted his eyes back and forth for a moment, before looking towards a small unmarked box. "Eh, well..." he stuttered for a moment, before suddenly snatching the box and yanking it open. "Ah well, that broad ain't gonna miss one." he laughed to himself, tossing the cigar to Ted.

"Thank you." Ted quickly got out, as he fumbled in his pocket for his lighter, putting the cigar to his lips-

-and quickly pulling it back. Ted had been smoking cigars for the over a decade, and that wasn't how they tasted. It was bitter, and not in the usual way.

Noticing the presense of Calhoun and not wanting to draw any attention to himself, Ted quickly turned around, speed walking straight out the doorand back into his apartment, only taking a moment to note the presense of the same woman from the night prior.

Still, he didn't stop, and with a SLAM, closed the room door behind him.

Energy in his voice, he spoke quickly. "Dan, we've got a situation."

Dan turned to him, still fiddling with what was left of the TV. "Yes, we do. Ted, get your combat boots, we're going to rob an electronics store."

Ted stuttered in shock, continuing to pace as he spoke. "Wha-NOT THE TV!" he yelled with anger, throwing his hands in the air. "This cigar isn't right and I've got a hunch why."

Sitting down on the ancient looking desk/table, he pulled out his special knife, sawing into the cigar as Dan ranted behind him "Quit fooling around with that, I'm missing my stories!"

Ted, unfazed by the complaints, examined the contents of the cigar. Instead of the usually hazelnut brown leafy material, he saw a faded blackish green powder. He sighed, his suspisions confirmed.

Dan, having gotten sick of being ignored, walked up to him. "I think you're supposed to smoke that and not open it." he spoke with some degree of smugness.

"It's not tobacco." Ted stated, examining the powder in his hands. "It's opium."

That caught Dan's attention. As he turned to look at the powder, however, he frowned.

"WHAT!?" he stomped loudly, as he moved to the table. "They can afford opium, but can't afford a lousy TV remote? These swines must be stopped! STOPPED I TELL YOU!"

Ted deadpanned. "...That's what you take from that?"

Completely missing his friend's disbelief, Dan nodded resolutely.

"Indeed." he spoke in his best authoritative voice. "Come, Ted, we have a remote to steal!"

"That's it!" Ted snapped, throwing the door open. "I'm getting to the bottom of this!"

Dan jumped off the couch, quickly tailing Ted. "Don't forget to buy batteries!"

"Not the remote!" Ted whispered angrily, not wanting to be heard by any other tenants. "The...EVERYTHING. Men in suits, bruised workers, hookers around every corner, and now the attendant is apparently smoking opium cigars." Ted wiped his forehead, taking a deep breath. "I don't like it, not one bit. Something bigger is going on here, and I'm getting to the bottom of it." he mumbled before speed walking out the door.

"Ted, WAIT!" Dan shouted, prompting Ted to walk faster. "Where are you going?"

Turning to Dan as he continued to walk, Ted started, "I'm going straight to that-OUCH!"

Falling to the ground, Ted looked up and saw what he had collided with.

A woman.

It only took Ted a second to realize this wasn't the woman he had bumped into a night before. This girl had dusky dark skin and a black afro,and wore a microskirt, pink microbra, and a pair of high heels.

"Hey, watch where you're going you asshole!" she said, rubbing her scraped arm as she stood up.

"Sorry, sorry, so sorry, I was just-"

"TED!" Dan interrupted, thundering down the stairs in a great racket. "We need to...make a...Trixie?"

Dan went slackjawed, staring at the woman who simply gave a coy smirk in reply. "Hi, Dan."

"You know her?" Ted asked, his face curled in confusion.

The woman gave a loud laugh. "Know him? He's my best client. Danny boy here's seen me so many times, he could draw a map of my-"

"YES, Ted." Dan spoke loudly, cutting off Trxie before she could speak. "Me and Trxie have...met...before. It's uh...," Dan rubbed the back of his neck, uncharacteristically meekly. "...complicated. Trxie, this is Ted. He's an old friend."

"Pssh, only thing complicated were Danny's tastes," she whistled, giving the blushing Dan a pat on the back. "So, what brings you to this  
part of town? If you wanted to see me again, you could have just called, you know my schedule."

"I...uh..," Dan stuttered out as Ted sighed before stepping into the conversation himself.

"Look, we're here for one of...uh...did Dan tell you about his 'revenge schemes'?"

Trxie chuckled, "Oh, Danny boy spilled it all, alright."

Ted twitched slightly at the thought of what she was alluding to before getting back on track. "Ok, so, we're trying to get revenge on this place for bedbugs and uh.." Ted quickly looked behind his back before leaning in closer to whisper. "I've been noticing that Roman has gotten himself some bruises, and I saw some men in suits, uh, come in yesterday. And just now, I find out his girl is smoking opium." Trixie's look grew steadily more focused as he continued. "I think something bigger is going on here, and I wanted to ask if you happened to know anything."

Silent for a moment, Trixie took a quick peak over her shoulder before gesturing the duo to follow. "Come with me."

Unsure of what to do, Ted shrugged and started following the woman around the back of the building.

"Careful Ted, we're walking straight into the Den of the Demimonde. No man ever comes out the same." Dan whispered, getting a side glance from Ted.

Trixie continued forward unimpeeded, until reaching a locked wooden door near the back. Pulling out a brass key and opening the door with a CREAK, the smell of cigarette smoke wafted out. Stepping in, the trio were greeted by a gaggle of girls.

Lying on the couch was the woman he had seen the day prior. A slender milky skinned woman with ginger hair, wearing a verdant coat with a dank pink halter top. She was reading a Playgirl magazine, staring at it with an intense thirst in her eyes. She failed to agknowledge the duo, licking her lips at the magazine.

On the chair, was an older woman, clearly past her prime. Her skin was dry and pale, her stomach pooched out, and her hair was short and grayed. She had a cigarette in hand. A frown was on her face.

"Trixie, don't bring the clientle in here, this is a man free zone."

"Nah it's cool Lola, they're with me" She spoke as the two men slowly walked in. "This is Ted, and that's Danny. Guys, this is Misty, Lola, and...I assume Andrea is still in the back?"

Misty nodded absently from her place on the couch, not bothering to glance away from her porn even momentarily as her eyes devoured every lewd image available, seemingly oblivious to the thin line of drool running down from her mouth.

"Anyway," Trixie continued, "they wanted to ask some questions about Roman."

Lola paused at this momentarily before suddenly scoffing, turning to glare at the two men.

"I suppose that'd be the only reason two fine gentleman like yourselves would be here, isn't it? After all, I can't imagine either of you being all that interested in any services we might offer."

"What are you implying by that?" Dan growled, his calm tone quickly vanishing as angry filled his voice. "I'll have you know I am Trixie's best customer, in all forms of...her...uh...services." Dan stuttered, pausing as he was ensure exactly how to punctuate it.

"Ah, yes, a customer." Lola gave a twisted scowl, walking towards Dan. "And customers...don't... come...in...here," she spoke contemptuously, punctuating each word with a poke to Dan's chest. Dan's face gradually became red as she did this.

Grinding his teeth, Dan managed to keep his cool, even if only barely.

"I'll go when I'm good and ready," growled back Dan, "and I'm not going anywhere until I find out what Roman's up to, so if you me to go, I'd suggest you consider telling my friend and I want we want."

Her eye twitching slightly, Lola motioned for Dan to lean in as she said softly "You either get your semen stained mitts out of here right now, or I will disembowel you and use your inwards as dog food. That sound like something you want, tiny?"

Sneering, Dan laughed derisively, "Oh right, do you even know what goes into disemboweling someone, lady?" Lola's blood began to boil as he continued to belittle her. "It's a long and tedious process, and I doubt you'd be willing to-AAAAAAAGGGGGGGGH!"

Delivering a straight kick to Dan's crouch, Lola had hit her breaking point.

"AAAGHGH...Ahh...you fucking bitch..." Dan screamed, falling onto his knees.

Lola growled, her rage having not yet subsided. "I SAID GET OUT! AND IF YOU'RE STILL HERE IN THE NEXT TEN SECONDS, THE ONLY DIFFERENCE BETWEEN YOU AND A CORPSE WHEN I'M DONE WITH YOU WILL BE ONE YOU'LL STILL BE ABLE TO GET STIFF!"

Trixie gasped, she knew Dan well enough to know that this was a terrible call. "Lola, quit now, he's-"

Dan roared pushing past pain. He lunged at Lola who stood shocked that Dan could still moved. The two went down hard as Dan tackled Lola to the ground, punching her in the face as hard as he could as Lola grabbed him by the throat, attempting to choke him.

Seeing the situation quickly deteriorating, Ted acted swiftly, reaching down to pull Dan off Lola by his shirt, wrapping his arms around his chest. The last thing Ted needed was to be seen at the sight of a womans murder.

"DAN, STOP!" shouted Ted loudly as he struggled to pull Dan off Lola. For as small as Dan was, he could downright ferocious when pushed far enough. Giving one last heave, Ted managed to haul Dan away from the fallen harlot. "Ok, sorry for the trouble, I'll just, be uh, taking him now."

"LET ME GO, YOU BASTARD! LET ME GO!" screamed Dan angrily at Ted. Seeing the downed woman begin to get up, Dan's anger migrated. "YOU COME BACK HERE, LOLA! I WILL RIP YOUR ARMS OFF, AND MUTILATE YOU SO HARD, THAT PEOPLE WON'T EVEN BE ABLE TO TELL YOU'RE A WOMAN!"

Ted felt his muscles burn as Dan continued to struggle and fight relentlessly. "I'LL GOUGE OUT YOUR EYES AND WEAR THEM FOR ANTENNA! I'LL TEACH YOU THE MEANING OF DISEMBOWEL, I'LL-"

As Ted finally managed to drag Dan out of the room, the door lammed shut behind him. Hearing this, Lola briefly attempted to charge after him, but was held back by Trixie. "YOU HEAR THAT PIG?! STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!"

As the action finally died down, Misty looked up curiously.

"Was that the pizza guy? Did we not tip him enough?"

* * *

Having finally wrestled Dan to the ground, Ted held him by the arms, waiting for his energy to burn out.  
"LET ME GO, TED; THAT WENCH IS ESCAPING!" he screamed, attempting to wrestle his way out.

"It's not worth it, Dan; it's not worth it!" Ted grunted, holding down Dan.

"LET ME GO!"

"LEAVE IT!"

"Dan!" A feminine voice shouted, followed by the sound of footsteps running. It was Trixie.

Ted breathed a sigh of relief. Tits were one of the few things that could calm down a raging Dan. That and setting things on fire.

"Danny, I'm...I'm sorry about Lola...she's.." Trixie paused, rubbing her arm. "...she's had a rough life."

"Yeah we could tell." Ted deadpanned. "Could you help me with him?"

"I WILL NOT BE HELPED!" Dan screeched, having his energy revigorated. "THE ONLY ONE WHO NEEDS HELP IS THAT-"

SQUISH

Trixie leaned into hug Dan, smothering his head in her bosom. After a moment, she pulled back. Dan was in a haze, his face blushing.

Ted looked on, surprise in his face(and perhaps a hint of jealousy) "Not what I meant, but can't argue with results."

"Oh...I uh-" Dan shook his lead, having forgot what he was ranting about. "What were you saying about Lola?"

"She fell onto hard times, had to get herself pimped out for money. Some shit went down and dat girl went a little nutty." Trixie started."I think-"

"Ok, look." Ted interrupted, knowing Dan was still in a poon haze. "I'd love to hear some chicks inspiration biography about her struggle in a mans world, but I'm on the edge of parole as is and don't want to spend a moment here longer then I have to. So, could you kindly tell us what the hell that fattie Roman is up to?"

Trixie sighed. "Look, I don't know much. I only formally met him a month ago and Lola was the one discussing the details with him." Ted groaned,looking down at his feet. Taking a moment to light a cigarette, Trixie continued. "...But I'll tell you what I know."

Ted smirked, glad to be finally getting somewhere. Dan stood up, his interest having been piqued as his body settled down.

"Roman used to frequent a club down the road, The Salted Wound. Always at the poker table." she paused to take a puff, as Ted gasped. "Salted Wound. Shit I used to hang there back in the day."

Trixie continued "We played him a few times, but the man was a lousy bluffer, Andrea took him for everything he had and then he stopped coming there."

"So he's a gambler." Ted asked to himself, struggling to put all the pieces together. "You think the men in suits are from the club?"

"Couldn't be." She said coldly. "I worked the pole there for three years and I never saw any of those men. Just some Scottish twerp and the dyke he works with." Trixie paused for a moment, her face scrunching up at the effort. "I THINK he mentioned something about the Wolfsbane Casino. Place is run by the mob, they probably came from there."

"Well, that certainly doesn't bode well for him." Dan calmly stated, now somewhat interested in the tale.

"We didn't see him again until he approached us about a month ago." she paused to take a puff. "From what Lola told me he was giving us the old lounge for free if we...'roamed around' and got him some business." Gesturing to the room, Dan agreed. It was significantly better then either his or Teds. "We hadn't been making much lately, so she took the offer. Barely any customers around here though, place is a wasteland."

"What about the men in suits?" Ted asked, before turning back to Misty. "You said they might be with the mob?"

Trixie sighed. "The first started showing up a few weeks back, right around when we first moved in." She paused to fiddle for another cigarette, "I heard one of them speak. They're Italians." she lit the cigarette, giving a mild cough. "Roman's been real jumpy since then, always looking for cash." she laughed. "Considering what a shit buffler he was I'm not surprised. Either that or his girl. Poor things got a junk problem."

"The Opium..." Ted mumbled under his breath, the thoughts racing through his head.

"What happens to Roman isn't our problem." Trixie stated calmly, before coyley turning to Ted. "But if you want my opinion." PUFF. "I'd say the mob is after the two of em."

Ted stood up quickly, grabbing his things and running towards the door. "That's it, I'm out"

"TED WAIT!" Dan exclaimed, going after his friend. "Why are you leaving?"

Turning around, Ted grabbed Dan by the shoulders and started shaking him "Did you not hear her?" Ted twitched in fear, continuing the shake Dan. "The fucking MAFIA is after Roman. The MAFIA!" Ted glanced behind his back, before throwing Dan off of him. "I don't wanna be here when they show up."

"Oh come on!" Dan whined as Ted walked off. "What about revenge? Those bedbugs will conquer us all if that puppet Roman isn't stopped!"

"FORGET ROMAN. The mob will take care of him, we gotta save ourselves!" Ted shouted back to Dan as he rounded the corner, disappearing behind the building.

"Ted I..." Dan started, before giving up. "jerk." he mumbled under his breath, walking back into the room. "Well girls, guess I'm gonna need to handle this myself." before turning to Trixie. "And Trix, I need your baseball bat."

* * *

"Alright Elise. I've scheduled a Doctor's appointment to check in on your bones for 1 o clock, so be ready."

Elise smiled as her husband walked in to check on her. "Aw, thanks sweetie. You know, I am really proud of you for not helping Dan this time, you've  
really matured."

"I just try to keep him off my mind." Chris stated as he walked the kitchen. "After so many back to back schemes, factorys, farmers markets. Dan  
can be a little..."

"Insane?"

"I was gonna say intense." Chris continued. "But it gets to be a bit much."

"Everyone needs a break from Dan." Elise replied, prompting a smile from Chris.

"Plus I couldn't leave while you were injured." he leaned in to kiss his wife. "I love you.

"Naw, I love you too Chris."

The two shared a brief moment, before Chris walked back into the bedroom. Elise, waiting for the sound of him hitting the bed, pulled her watch  
back out.

"This is Agent Dancing Shadow, how's that healing syrum going?"

"We have it prepped and ready Dancing Shadow, send us the coordinates and we'll ensure our personal are on site and ready to administer."

Elise nodded, sending them the location of the hospital Chris had mentioned, before a thought came to her mind. "What about the local doctor."

Eagles Nest laughed. "We'll take care of him, Dancing Shadow."

* * *

CREAK

The door to Roman's office slowly opened, as Dan walked in, baseball bat in hand. The plan was simple. Beat the shit out of Roman until he gave him a better room. Or got rid of the bedbugs. Or gave him money. Dan wasn't entirely sure.

"Oh god I think that's them."

Dan turned. The faint sound of whispering was coming from inside the desk cabinet. Raising up his bat, he smashed the top of the desk, and with a POP the door assembly came off, revealing Roman Ezaels and Julia Butler inside, quivering like cold cats. "Peek-a-Boo"

The two didn't stay silent for long, quickly breaking out into a fit of screaming and ranting.

"AW SHIT AW SHIT!"

"PLEASE DON'T KILL ME"

"OH GOD I...wait." Roman stopped, noticing who has in front of him. "You're not...Oh thank god it's you!"

Julia, surprised by her boyfriends response, stopped screaming. "He isn't with the mob?"

"No I...I don't think..." Roman paused, looking at the guy. "You're that maniac from the apartment complex aren't you?"

"Maniac?" Dan stated, twitching slightly. "I'LL SHOW YOU WHO'S A MANIAC!" Dan screamed, continuing the bash the top of the desk.

"STOP STOP STOP WHAT DO YOU WANT!" Roman screamed, covering his head in fear the baseball would break through.

Dan paused, taking a moment to ponder the thought. "Let's see, world domination, free TV, a turkey sandwich, a bed made entirely of women."

"This guy's insane." Julia mumbled under her breath as he spoke.

"But from you specifically? A better room as compensation for the war wounds I have sustained in the fight against the Arthropod Army."

"What do you...oh right...the uh, bed bugs." Roman rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I don't have any better rooms, I just-"

"EITHER GIVE ME A BETTER ROOM, OR GIVE ME MY MONEYS WORTH!" Dan screamed, smashing the bat against the desk.

"Look, look, I have no money, I'm...I'm broke." he said with a slight sob. "I blew it all at the casino, I have a problem I know I do...and everytime I think I'm over it it...it just comes back to me...like some sort of demon." Roman starting shaking again, putting his arms close to his bruised face. "I took a loan from this Italian man, Vito. I needed it or I'd lose the motel." he turned to Dan. "You're apartment block offered me a high price to take a couple people in, I needed the money."

Dan scoffed "That sounds like a you problem, not a me problem."

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" Roman screamed, climbing out of the desk and staring Dan in the face. "They're getting impatient now, I..I gave them the money I got, but It wasn't enough. Last night they...they" Roman stopped, curling up into a ball to cry for a moment. "They're coming for me and Julia, we're done for. You've got to help us, you've-"

"Ehhh" Dan sighed, weighing the options in his head. "It seems like karma to me. You give a guy bed bugs, you get wacked by the mob. Karma."

"Oh god we're gonna die." Julia squeeled, attempting to crawl deeper into the desk.

"It's not just me." Roman spat out, lying in the fetal position. "They're taking Julia, the building, the hookers, probably Calhoun. God I've destroyed everything."

Dan smiled for a moment, before one of the words caught his attention. "Wait, the hookers?"

Julia also turned to Roman, visibly upset. "Yes, what HOOKERS Roman?"

Roman sobbed further. "I gave them the old lounge as a room for free. I was hoping they'd attract more tenants looking for a quick stay." Roman paused, turning to face Dan. "Ray's coming to collect them and sell them off to a pimp downtown, he might let me go If I-" He paused, suddenly noticing Dan had gotten up to leave, and was rapidly walking out of the room. Giving a sigh of relief, Roman relaxed for the first time the entire encounter.

Just as Dan was about to leave, he paused, turning back towards the desk. "Oh, and your girlfriend is smoking opium cigars." before leaving the room completely.

"YOU WHAT?" Roman shouted at Julia, clearly angry. "YOU SAID YOU WERE QUITTING?"

"I tried, but the tobacco wasn't working for me, so I kinda...swapped them."

* * *

"There there Andrea, we're here for you."

Lola put her hand on the disheveled Andrea, still somewhat drunk and unstable.

Suddenly, Dan walked in the door, a calm yet concerned look on his face.

"Ok girls I have some bad news and some wors...what happened to her?" Dan asked, noticing the large woman in the red shirt on the couch.

"This is Andrea." Misty replied as she looked over her comrade. "And I'm not entirely sure. She's normally a real confident gal, but for the last week she's been all closed off and shit, drinking absinthe all day and rambling about the government." Misty paused, leaning in for a whisper. "Personally I think she's tweaking."

Andrea coughed, mumbling under her lips. "Dssh is phointluss...dey...deyr laying ta us...dey bovermen...itssh gonna...ewase the...the...pubwic...sssssh"

"Oh uh, sorry to hear that." Dan cleared his throat, getting back to his point. "Anyway, the mafia is coming to kill you and sell you into sexual slavery, and if they can't then they'll gut Roman alive and sell his parts on the street. So you should probably leave."

For a moment, the room was quiet.

"WHAT?!" The third girls screamed, freezing in place.

"Yeah, you should probably leave, like, right now." Dan spoke sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"We have to leave, NOW!" Lola stated coldly and quickly, frantically ripping open all the drawers. "Come on ladies we got to get the fuck out of here."

"Shit..." Misty mumbled to herself, looking back and forth. "Ah, my bag of se-"

"LEAVE IT LEAVE IT" Lola screeched in rage, slapping the bag out of Misty's hand.

"What, but I-" Grabbing Misty by the arm like a mother would grab their daughter, Lola dragged her towards the door. "Come on come on."

"What about Andrea?" Trixie asked, looking at the voluptious woman on the couch, lying in a stupor.

Turning back to Andrea, Lola grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking the large woman. "WAKE UP! WE HAVE TO GO!"

"Pssh...iz he...urg..." Andrea mumbled, before fully slipping into unconciousness.

Panicking, Lola tugged at her arm, attempting with all her might to heave the woman off the couch. She didn't budge. "YOU TWO, HELP ME!"

Trixie quickly hopped to her side, attempting to drag the massive woman out the door. Misty stood there for a moment, her tiny brain struggling to process the situation, before finally figuring it out and grabbing the other arm.

With a heave and a ho, Andrea, now fully passed out, slowly moved forward.

"PUT YOUR BACK INTO IT!" Lola screamed, getting increasingly desperate.

**CLANK**

Andrea's left shoulder struck the narrow door frame, Lola frantically readjusting her in an attempt to get her through.

**SQUISH**

Andrea's large waist caught the frame, wedging her in between the boards like a sardine.

Lola, now glancing over her shoulder in fear the mob was already here, tugged harder. "PULL DAMNNIT!"

Trixie reached her hand down, attempting to push Andreas's love handles aside so she could fit through. "I told her..._grunt..._that those pizza pops would be the end of here."

Misty, perhaps still unaware of the seriousness of the situation, gave a great push at Andreas behind, her hands sinking in. With a squeel, she attempted to push forward before she lost her balance and fell on Andrea's back, groaning in pain. "This isn't working." she whined, as if she wanted to go back to her magazine.

Lola sighed, looking back and forth between Andrea and the door. "Leave her." Lola stated coldly, dragging Misty out of the room. "It's either her or us."

"What?" Trixie shouted in surprise, giving another tug of her arm. "Lola you twat, we can't just ditch her-"

"I'm not letting myself become a man's plaything. NOT AGAIN!" Lola yelled, her entire body shaking violently at the thought. "Drinking that much was her fault, she'll have to pay the price. Come on you two, we have to leave now."

Misty absent mindedly started to follow, before Trixie grabbed her by the collar, pulling her back. "No. Unlike you, I have standards. Andrea is a good lass, I ain't leaving her behind come hell or highwater."

"Maybe if she had layed off the cheesepuffs she wouldn't be in this situation." Lola sneered, grabbing her bag and standing at the door.

"Hey!" Dan shouted, getting frustrated at what he was hearing. "I'll have you know just because someone is grossly overweight doesn't mean they don't have a use. Take my wallet Chris for example."

"Misty, come on, we have to leave." Lola gestured, moving towards the door.

Misty stood there, unmoving, a strained look on her eyes. Trixie looked at her in surprised...was she was actually trying to think?

"But...Andrea is my friend." Misty replied, before taking a light sigh, her brain quickly turning it's thoughts back to men.

"That drunken lard ass is going to get us killed, and if you bitches can't see that then...then..." Lola stammered, her brain torn between her options.

"Lola." Trixie started, holding out her hand. "Don't."

Lola looked at her for a second, as if pondering the thought, before turning back towards the door and running, her silhoette quickly disappearing into the alley.

"Wow, that escalated surprisingly fast." Dan quipped.

"Selfish twat." Trixie mumbled under her breath, walking towards a small shelf near the back of the room.

"So, uh, not that I want to side with the asshole, but uh." Dan spoke quickly, rubbing his shoulders as he watched Trixie dig behind the shelf. "You do know that the mafia is on they're way here to-"

**CLICK CLACK**

Dan froze, having noticed what Trixie had pulled out.

In her hands, sat a Tec-9, a freshly spent ammo casing lay on the floor nearby. Dan smiled wickedly at the sight of the weapon.

"We'll have to fight them off ourselves. Danny, baby, cover the front entrance for me. Let's teach those pigs a lesson."

Dan grinned. "I like the way you think."

* * *

**Screeeeeeeeech.**

The sound of the vans breaks groaned as it skidded to a halt.

**CLACK**

The door opened.

Ray Rossi stepped out the front, cigar in mouth. A wicked smile stood front and centre on his face.

Behind him, another two men stepped out. Jimmy and Charlie, each clad in a simple t-shirt.

"You two, go look for the girls. Mr. B will pay us a pretty penny for a couple of skanks like them." Ray spoke with a scorn, tossing his Cigar loosely to the ground. "I've payed off the door guard, so we should be able to get in and out in 5 minutes flat. I don't want ANY noise from you two or I'll make sure the boss has your asses sent up the river. Understand?"

Jimmy and Charlie gave each a quick glance, before turning back to Ray. "Yes sir." they both slowly said with a gulp. Ray was not a kind man, and every man in the mob knew he was not someone to be messed with.

"And Phil." Ray started, gesturing to the scrawny man in the front sent, suddenly snapping to attention at the sound of his voice.

"Yes boss?"

"Guard the van and be ready to load the cargo when we get out here, can't have anyone seeing this." He leaned in closer, fear filling Phil's face. "And for godsakes, don't let us get towed or I'm towing you straight to the harbor. Capisci?"

"Sì." Phill muttered out, before a thought came to his mind. "Wait, what are you doing?" he asked, leaning back slightly in fear he had just made a terrible mistake and was about to be killed.

"Hahahhaha." Ray laughed, Phill shaking in fear at what was about to happen. "Me? I'll be paying our amico Roman a little visit."

Phill gave a sigh of relief. He would live another day.

Gesturing for the two goons to follow him, the three men walked towards the motel entrance. Phil, still stressed by his encounter, leaned back into his chair, flickering through the radio stations casually.

**"-shake it up, tonight. Tell me that you-itizens are still concerned about possible chemical contamination following the explosion at-the allegations against Mr. Burger have been thrown o-but authorties are suspicious as to the nature of Mr. Smearys-be direct. If I'm wrong please cor-one witness described the figure the FBI is calling, The Lady, as almost-Green Fairy. The beverage from a simpl-it's a non stop disco betcha it's nabisco betcha didn't-The LIE, the LIE-A woman was attacked by a gang of tramps yesterday morning while boarding the-"**

Finally, after significant trial and error, Phil found the classical music station, and, for the first time in the entire deal, relaxed. "Fucking asshole." He mumbled, closing his eyes to enjoy a moments rest.

In his relaxed state, Phil failed to notice the rustling of the nearby bushes, nor the faint black fabric showing between the leaves.

"Mr Mumbles, my time of heroism has come to pass." Dan spoke with pride, turning to look at his cat. Mr Mumbles sat in the nearby bushes, lying on his belly.

"MEOW."

Dan chuckled. "No, daddy has to set some very bad men on fire, but he'll give you a belly rub later."

"Me-ow"

"It'll only be 10 minutes, jeez." Dan spoke, his attention focused on what was in his hands.

From his back pocket, Dan pulled out a large bottle of rubbing alcohol, quickly unscrewing the cap and poring it into a glass bottle until it was nearly full. Then, using what was left, he soaked a rag in the alcohol, before inserting it into the top of the bottle.

One Molotov Cocktail, ready for use.

Grabbing his lighter, Dan flickered it once, then twice, until a bright orange flame popped out. The gentle blue glow spread up the cloth, until the whole thing was burning.

"DRINK THIS, FASCISTS!" Dan screamed in victory, the bottle flying through the air until, with a **SMASH**, it exploded, spreading a puddle of fire across the vans engine.

Phill, having been startled back into focus by the sound of shattering glass, quickly caught eye of the growing inferno in front of him. "FUCK!" he cried, jumping out of the van. In a state of panic, he pulled a rag out of his pocket, attempting in vain to beat out the rapidly spreading alcohol fire.

**POP**

**HISS**

A great flame burst forth from the engine, sending Phil stumbling back. The hood of the van was forced open as burning gasoline sprayed out of a ruptured pipe.

"Shit shit SHIT!" Phil stammered, unsure exactly what to do, taking a moment to glance around and attempt to figure out who had thrown the molotov.

**POP**

"Fuck!" Phil's choice was decided for him as another line burst, the entire engine block consumed in a quickly growing fire. Not wanting to be anywhere NEAR the van when it blew, Phil quickly darted down the street, disappearing behind the corner.

**WHOOSH  
**

A few seconds later, the entire van was engulfed in flames, a series of pops and small explosions resonating from below.

**POP**

One of the tires burst in the incredible heat, sending nuts and bolts flying.

"MR MUMBLES!" Dan cried, covering his cat as the rain of metal came down upon them. "You could have hurt yourself. Remember what I told you?'

"Meow."

"No, not about the IRS. When daddy is exploding stuff, you cover." He said, smiling as he rubbed the cat.

"Meow."

"That's right. Now then, stay here, Daddy has some killing to do."

* * *

"I don't get it Jim." Charles started as he rounded the corner, trying to take his mind off the situation with his boss. "Guy has a business, a girl, a future, not a great future, but a future." He gestured to the motel. "Why would he just...gamble it all away?"

"Addictive personality, I've seen it a million times." Jimmy started, stopping on the steps of the entrance. "I once knew a guy named Jason. Brother went missing and he-"

"Would you SHUT UP!" Ray scowled, holding the door half open. "Is it too much to ask for you idiots to get this done?"

Jimmy and Charles looked at eachother, not saying a word.

"Fucking cretins." Ray mumbled under his breath, entering the main room of the motel. Moving towards the small staircase, he paused "You better have those walking vaginas ready for takeoff by the time I get back down here." before pulling out his caddleprod and continuing upstairs.

"Shit." Charles spoke slowly as he walked, his eyes still wide with fear. "He always like this?"

"Long as **I'vSe** known him." Jimmy replied, as if he had seen the situation a million times. "Ray's a cruel motherfucker, not even the boss likes him."

"Vito?" Charles chuckled. "He doesn't like anyone."

"He liked his son." Jimmy responded without missing a beat. "Bailed him out in 2010 during the riots."

Charles turned to Jimmy, confusion on his face "Vito has a son?"

"He did." Jimmy spoke calmly, pushing open the door to the main hallway. "His boat exploded in Barbados a few years back, Ray got the promotion and took his spot. Vito hasn't been the same since."

"Fuck." Charles somberly stated, looking down at the cheap carpet in disbelief. "Who did it?"

"What?"

"Who ordered the hit?" Charles stammered out. "Japs? Feds? Spics?"

"Eh..." Jimmy waved his hand side to side, as if to signal a lack of assuredness. "No one knows for sure, that's why Vitos been so hesitant to make new hires lately. If you're asking me though, I'd have to say it's those Cubans he's been-"

"DIE MOTHERFUCKERS!"

**RATATATTAT RATATATAT**

Trixie popped out from behind the corner, sending a flurry of bullets forward toward the two men.

**THUMP**

Charles hit the ground dead, blood pooling around his body. A hole lay in his skull.

"SHIT!" Jimmy yelled out, ducking back behind the corner. Grabbing his sides, he flinched. A bullet had grazed his left side, blood oozing onto his shirt. Pulling out his own pistol, he fired back, Trixie reflexedly pulling back as soon as he did.

**BANGCLANG BANGCLANG**

Bullets struck the metal corner divider, just missing Trixie.

"Fuck fuck fuck" Jimmy stuttered out, struggling to reload his pistol as he ducked down behind a disused cleaning cart.

**RATATATTAT**

Trixie fired another clip, each bullet rattling off the cart.

**BANGCLANG BANG**

The second Trixie stopped firing, Jimmy popped out from behind the cart, firing two bullets. The first missed, the second struck Trixie in the chest, an audible gasp emitting from her mouth as she stumbled, quickly falling.

Jimmy, taking a quick moment to rub the sweat off his forehead, speed walked right up to Trixie(who lay bleeding on the floor) aiming his gun at her when-

**SLAM**

Jimmy's eyes rolled back into his head, his entire body going limp as he struck the ground with a **THUMP.**

It was Dan.

Crowbar in hand, he wound up for another hit. Jimmy, still partially concious, could only brace as it came down.

**SCRUNCH**

Blood spurted from Jimmy's nose as it twisted sideways, an awful sound filling the room.

**CRACK**

The crowbar struck his chest, several of his ribs audibly cracking.

**CRUSH**

With another blow, the left side of Jimmy's ribcage caved in, lood quickly beginning to soak his shirt.

Dan, still in a state of rage, pulled the crowbar all the way back, intending to smash in Jimmy's skull, when suddenly-

**"**ARRRGGGGH!" Dan screamed in pain, falling onto his knees! Behind him, stood Ray Rossi, cattleprod in hand. Quickly pulling out his revolver, he aimed for Dan's head.

**BANG**

Dan tackled Ray, the force of the impact sending him onto the floor, his gun firing into the wall behind. Dan, quickly climbing on top of the now fallen Ray, began furiously punching him in the head, each impact slightly contorting Ray's face.

"TAKE THIS YOU JER-AAAAGGGH!"

With a swift knee to his crotch, Dan fell to his side, giving Ray the chance to get back on top. Forcing Dan down, he struck the small man in the chest hard.

"NO ONE FUCKS WITH ME!" He screamed, kicking Dan to the side before raising his boot for a stomp. "NO ONE!"

**CRUNCH**

Ray stomped Dan in the face, his nose crunching much as Jimmy's had just a moment prior. A quick glance determined Dan was out.

Giving a smirk, Ray turned with a slight limp to pick up his gun, which had been knocked behind a cleaning cart.

**RATATAT**

Ray nearly tripped over himself as the noise snapped him back to attention. He glanced around feverishly, looking for the source of the gunfire.

Trixie, still bleeding from her chest wound and partially slumped against a wall, had managed to regrab her Tec-9 and fired a clip. Unfortunately, the blood loss and muscle weakness left her too weak to aim properly.

Fearing for his life, Ray abandoned grabbing his gun and sprinting over to Trixie, delivering a hard kick to the pelvis and knocking the woman down, her gun cast aside.

"You little twat!" Ray screeched, stomping on the bleeding woman. "You're going to fucking pay for that"

**CRACK**

"AHHH!" Trixie screamed, passing out in response to the pain and bloodloss. Ray didn't let up, and continued kicking, unaware Dan was waking up.

Dan blinked. His vision was dark from the blow to his head. His legs hurt. Suddenly, the sound of screaming hit his senses, Dan quickly turning to focus on Trixie, who Ray was on the verge of killing.

Stumbling to his feet, Dan weighed his options. He could charge him again, look for his crowbar, or...

Eyeing Ray's gun, standing just a foot away, Dan gave a smile.

"YOU'RE NOT A PERSON!" Ray bellowed, taking a moment to watch the woman suffer. "You're just a little, insignificant CUNT, THAT I AM GOING TO ENJOY, TEARING APART PIECE BY PIECE. NOBODY FUCKS WITH RAY ROSSI AND LIVES, NO ONE-"

**BANG**

**THUMP**

He was dead before he hit the ground.

It was over.

Dan blinked once again, taking a good long look at Ray's body. _He's dead. That jerk is dead. _He thought to himself, before suddenly remembering.

"Trixie?" Dan asked with some confusion, the pounding in his head messing with his thoughts. Turning back to her, he saw to his horror that Trixie lie unconscious, a pool of blood collecting around her. "TRIXIE!" He shouted, louder this time, stumbling his way towards her.

"Trixie are you alright? Trixie? TRIXIE!"

Stumbling over to the dying woman, Dan gave a slight sob. Her wounds did not look good. Blood trickled from the bullet wound in her chest, various cuts and bruises lined her torso. Some small drops of blood were on her...

_Oh...that's me_

**CRUNCH**

Dan scrunched his nose back into place, wiping the blood off his mouth. "MISTY!" Dan screamed into the corridor behind him, hoping that the bimbo could hear him from here. "MISTY GET IN HERE!"

A few moments later, Misty appeared from the back corridor, a blank smile still on her face. "Oh hi Danny- I" she paused, noticing the bloody body of Trixie. "Trix?" she spoke solemnly, leaning down to look at her.

"Misty do you-" Dan started, before the sound of sirens fast approaching caught his ears. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was going to be ok.

He just needed to get his story straight. Being known for prostitution wasn't exactly going to improve Trixies situation.

"Uh, Misty?" Dan started sheepishly, catching the airheads attention. "I'm gonna need you to tell a little lie to Mr. Policeman"

* * *

"He keep us tied up here all the time." Misty sobbed to Officer Stubuck, who was writing down her statements as she spoke. "Roman is a very bad man."

"Yeah." Andrea slurred out, having finally come out of her blackout. Unaware exactly what was going on, she followed Misty's lead. "What she said."

"Fucking degenerate." Officer Francis mumbled to himself as he pulled the badly beaten Roman and Julia down the staircase, both clad in handcuffs. "How can you live with yourselves?"

"What? No, there must be some misunderstanding, I never-" Roman eyed Dan, standing next to Officer Puladime. "You...YOU DID THIS. TELL THEM. TELL THEM WHAT HAPPENED!"

Dan smirked. He was wearing a nice sweater and clean pants, as apposed to his usual jerk shirt. He had also noticably cleaned his hair. "I told you, you and your cronies were holding those poor woman hostage, and I had to kill one of you in self defense."

"LIAR!" Roman screeched out, being dragged out of the building with his girlfriend. "I SWEAR Officer, I didn't hold them, I invited them, I needed the money to pay the-"

"This is YOUR fault Roman, if you hadn't lost all our money none of this would have happened!" Julia screeched back, passing the blame to Roman.

"ME?" He replied, his frustration growing. "You're the one with the drug problem, Miss Opium!"

"WELL MAYBE IF YOU WEREN'T-"

**SLAM**

The door slammed shut behind the duo, Stubuck and Francis carrying them to the police car.

"So." Dan turned to Officer Puladime, twiddling his hands in stress. "How is my good friend Trixie doing?"

"You're friend is going to be fine sir, paramedic got here just in time, we-" Puladime squinted his eyes, taking a good, long look at Dan. "Don't I know you...Mister..."

"Uh...Biff. Biff Wellington." Dan stuttered out, putting on his best smile. "Uh, I think I saw you at a...ai a...a barbecue, yes." 'Biff' mumbled out, hoping the cop would buy it.

"Hmmm." Puladime glared at him, before turning back to the corpse of Ray, which had turned slightly pale in death. "And you said this was self defense?"

"Yes Sir." 'Biff' stated proudly. It wasn't even a lie. "As you can see" he pulled up his shirt. "I was badly injured after being attacked by this man. He has a cattle prod on his person and attacked several people."

"Yeah yeah, well your story seems to check out sir, you're free to go." Puladime rambled out, walking out the door, before suddenly turning around. "Oh, and one of the company representatives wants to speak to you."

**CHA CHING**

Just as Puladime left, another man walked in. He was a somewhat heavyset man, with thin partially greyed hair. With a slightly stretched blue suit and tight grey pants, he looked like your average rich guy in his late middle age.

"Are you Dan?" He asked, stepping up to the bruised man.

Dan stuttered, was this guy talking to the police. "Well I-"

"Well Mr. Mandel, I'm sorry to hear about your little incident at our chain." He pulled out a business card, showing it to Dan. "Ronald Love, CEO and President of the Ventura Hotel Company, the number 1 operator of hotels, motels, and love hotels in the Greater LA Area, operator of Super 7 Motels, Ventura Hotels, Orange County Standard Motels, and the Golden Member Love Mo-"

"Yeah yeah get to the point chubby." Dan stammered out fast, waving his hand around. He was confident this guy wasn't working with the cops.

"It would be unfortunate if this little...uh..._incident_..were to make it to court." He rubbed the back of his sweaty neck, a slight jitter in his movements. "So I was hoping to two of us could come to some sort of...arrangement."

Dan gave a wicked grin, thoughts of what he could get himself filling his mind. "I think we could open up some negotiations."

* * *

"Ah, this is the life Mr. Mumbles."

"MEOW."

Dan had made his demands quick and to the point. An all expense payed room at the fanciest hotel they owned, with unlimited room service AND pet access.

Of course, he had failed to mention that he didn't have a lawyer, but...what he doesn't know won't hurt him, of course.

Sitting on a large fancy chair, stroking his cat much like a supervillain, Dan was calm. His room was a massive penthouse, at the top of the Ventura Gold Hotel in Central LA. A 15 foot tv hung on the wall, above a massive fireplace, crackling gently in the late autumm cold.

"So Mr Mumbles, this is what it's like at the top." Dan chuckled. "Man, I should have threatened a massive corporation with legal litigation years ago."

"NYAN"

"Yes I remember what happened when I tried to sue that pudding company in Orange County!" Dan complained, mildly frustrated at having been corrected. "How was I supposed to know that big pipe was important?"

"MEW."

"Naw, I can't stay mad at you." Dan cooed, rubbing Mr. Mumbles on his head until the cat rolled over, purring in a state of bliss.

"Merrow?"

"The doctors said Trixie would be fine...eventually." Dan mumbled at the end, rubbing the back of his head in discomfort.

"Mow."

"I'd visit her if I could, I swear." Dan countered, before resuming rubbing his neck. "I'm just...not welcome in the hospital at the moment."

"Mew?"

"You're right Mr. Mumbles, we need to enjoy this hotel for as long as we can." He spoke his words with pride, as if he had just delivered a triumphant speech. "How about we order some more bacon sandwiches and watch 'The Homcidal Adventures of Population Control Johnny!' on this giant TV?" Dan queried, his cat simply purring in response. "That's what I thought."

* * *

**A FEW DAYS LATER, IN A SMALL RESTAURANT ON THE OTHER SIDE OF TOWN**

"Vito, we think we've found the punk that cupcaked Ray. His name isn't even Biff"

Vito stopped eating, leaning back in his chair. Sweat poured down Phil's brow as he slid a file across the table. With a cold glance, Vito tapped the file against the table, before opening it wide and taking a long moment to stare at it. Shock spread across his face.

"Well I'll be damned." He spoke slowly, taking another look. "That cockroach has reinvested by business."

"You...you know him?" Phill asked sheepishly, the thought of pissing off the head of the family filling his body with fear.

"Phil, get Jason on the phone. This man does not live to see the weekend."


End file.
